Immeasurably Changed
by Trish Tavor
Summary: Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy were never destined to be anything other than bitter enemies. However, the events of the Second Wizarding War have entirely thrown off many of their old beliefs, leaving them stranded in worlds they are both unsure of. Attending Seventh Year for entirely different reasons, can they reconcile their differences in order to pass the years' challenges?
1. Back to Hogwarts

**A/N:** Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, the characters and such belong to J.K. Rowling.

Okay, so just a quick note (if you hate A/N's then feel free to ignore XD). I used to be entirely against Dramione. Then I was introduced to a few fics that entirely changed my perspective. I grew to enjoy the two of them together (as long as they are well written) and decided that one way to make up my mind was to try my own hand at writing a Dramione multi chap. This takes place after all the events of the seven novels have occurred, when Hermione heads back to school for her Seventh Year. I have not read much Dramione at all (like three stories) so I don't know many of the cliches, but I hope mine will present some original ideas and be enjoyable! I hope to update about once a week, as I also wanted to take a shot at writing longer chapters, and need time for editing. Reviews are always appreciated! :)

Here it goes...

* * *

As Hermione pushed her way though the boundary between platforms nine and ten, she was bombarded by all the memories of the last seven years, and everything that they had held. For some reason, as close as these memories were, they also felt extremely far away. As though they had happened a life time ago, rather than simply a few months prior. She guessed it had something to do with her return to Hogwarts after a year away; she had felt as though her life as a student was over indefinitely, and now she was going back.

Coming through on the other side, to where the Hogwarts Express waited, was both pleasant and painful. Pleasant, because it felt like she was coming back home and painful because she knew that her two best friends were not there to share this final year with her. They were here to say goodbye of course. But that just wasn't the same.

She had been at The Burrow when all three of them had received their letters. Well, technically all four of them, as Ginny was of course coming back. It had been a shock to Hermione, and to Ron and Harry as well. All three of them had felt like their school years were part of a distant past, one that was no longer a part of their present lives, so receiving the letters as per usual had been extremely strange. Hermione had been the only one to take the news well; Ron and Harry had plans to start Auror training with Kingsley, who was also the new Minister for Magic, in the fall. Having both taken part and been key components to winning the Second Wizarding War, their lack of having taken the NEWTs was seen as inconsequential.

"Oi! Hermione!" Ron's voice cut into her thoughts, and she turned quickly to see that the others had all joined her on Platform 9¾. _For the last time_, "You don't even have a book, and you're still not paying attention!"

Rolling her eyes, Hermione punched Ron in the shoulder. "You're lucky I don't have a book, because that would have been a lot more painful with one," she muttered.

Wincing, Ron rubbed his shoulder and grimaced: "It was painful enough as it was."

Instantly, Hermione's eyes flashed with a slight amount of worry, and she reached out to touch Ron's shoulder, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't actually –"

"I'm teasing!" Ron cut her off, laughing at the aggravated look on her face: "I've been through the Second Wizarding War, do you really think a little punch is going to bother me?"

"Git," Hermione stated, trying to hold back her own laughter. It only worked for about three seconds, before she started laughing along with him.

"What are you two giggling about?" Harry questioned, wandering over to stand beside them, hands in his pockets. His eyes betrayed his discomfort, and both his friends stopped laughing to study him. Harry averted his eyes momentarily. This place reminded him of all the people he'd lost. Sirius in animagus form, saying goodbye in his fifth year. Fred and George teasing each other and joking about what prank they would pull next. Then, of course, with these thoughts would come rushing in everybody else, even those whom he did not closely associate with this place. Dumbledore. Snape. Lupin and Tonks. His parents.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Hermione's voice broke through his mental list, and he slowly shook his head yes.

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine, mate," Ron responded.

Harry sighed. He didn't want to burden his friends with his thoughts, especially when Hermione and Ginny were leaving for the year. That was hard enough to handle. Of course, he was sure that the professors wouldn't mind the occasional visit, but still…even a month without Ginny seemed impossible. And he was so used to Hermione always being there that he hated the idea of her being so far away.

"I'm just – thinking – about how much I'm going to miss you two. You and Ginny," Harry stated, going with a half-truth and gesturing at Hermione, "We've been so close for the last seven years, it just seems impossible that we're all going our separate ways."

"Bloody hell, mate," Ron responded quickly, "Isn't that getting a little overdramatic? I mean, you and I are both training to be Aurors, and Hermione and Ginny are just finishing up their last year. It's not like we're going to be across the world from each other."

Harry nodded absentmindedly, "I suppose you're right. It's just strange, that's all."

The other two nodded, and an uncomfortable silence settled between them all for a moment. Finally Ron broke it:

"Do you want me to help you bring your bags onto the train?" he questioned.

"You know, I'm perfectly capable of doing that myself. I had to do it alone for the first six years," Hermione teased, trying to break the tension.

Ron laughed, "I know, but I'm trying to be a _gentleman_. Now that we're together, I thought I should probably pay a little more attention to you."

Rolling her eyes in mock exasperation, Hermione sighed: "Well, if you insist."

"I do," Ron responded, giving her a mock bow.

Harry chuckled at the two of them. Apparently Hermione's attempt to make him feel better had actually worked: "Well, if you two have got this sorted out, I'm going to go and help Ginny," he said.

Pretending to straighten a non-existent tie, Ron sniffed dramatically: "I was wondering when you would figure out that you should probably pay some attention to her. And I always thought that _you_ were the gentlemanly one."

Hermione groaned at Ron's antics, but it was Harry who responded: "I _am_ the gentlemanly one. Everything you know you learned from me. I'm the one who told you that you should offer to take Hermione's bags in the first place."

Ron turned a light shade of red, and whispered, "He's lieing," to Hermione as Harry walked away.

"I'm sure, Ronald," Hermione responded, with a small sigh. She wasn't sure at all. In fact, she was quite certain that Harry was telling the truth. Ron had always been a little – okay, a lot – awkward when it came to so-called gentlemanly things. At first she had found it annoying, then cute, and now she had just accepted it as one of his many quirks. _Oh well,_ she sighed, _it could be far worse_.

Picking up her bags, Ron guided the two of them towards the train, and then up the steps: "Where are you wanting to sit?" he questioned. Hermione considered this, having not thought about it before.

"I suppose wherever Ginny is sitting," she responded, once again feeling the pang that it would not be with Ron and Harry like it once was.

"Ginny's Head Girl, remember?" Ron reminded her, "She has to sit with the prefects, and then patrol the corridors and make sure everyone's doing their duties."

Again, that pang. Hermione had desperately wanted to be Head Girl in her seventh year, though the prospect had seemed entirely unimportant during the war. When she received her letter, the hope had been reignited, only to be smothered again. McGonagall, who was now the Headmistress of Hogwarts, had written her a personal note, which was nice. It didn't change Hermione's feelings, but it was kind of her anyway. It had simply explained that because Hermione was rejoining a new class, the professors did not think it best to burden her with the duties of Head Girl, nor did they think it fair to the majority of the other seventh year students. Ginny was, of course, the obvious choice after Hermione. She had followed in Bill, Charlie, and Percy's footsteps, getting some of the highest marks in her year and being an all around good student.

Ron's voice cut through her thoughts: "What in the bloody hell is _he_ doing here?" He stated angrily. Hermione raised her head instantaneously, searching for the person who had gotten Ron so worked up. When she saw him, she groaned inwardly. _Draco Malfoy? _He stood a ways down the corridor, talking with Daphne Greengrass and Theodor Nott, two other Slytherins. McGonagall had also mentioned that she wasn't the only one in her in her year returning, but in none of her wildest dreams had Hermione thought that Draco Malfoy, of all people, would be one of them.

"I don't know, Ronald," she responded coolly, doing her best to remain calm. The idea of having to deal with Malfoy for a year, without Ron and Harry, simply sent another pang through her. _Loathsome cockroach._

"Having second thoughts, Hermione?" Ron questioned, tone a mixture of jest and seriousness.

"Of course not, Ronald. Though I bloody well wish he weren't here," she seethed.

Ron's eyebrows raised automatically: "Language, Hermione," he said.

"Hypocrite," she responded, though inwardly she felt weird for allowing the word to pass through her lips. Not that it was technically that bad – for the average person – but Hermione Granger was not nearly the average person, and for some reason it made her feel dirty, "Sorry," she muttered.

Laughing, Ron rolled his eyes – a habit that he had picked up from Hermione, though he didn't do it nearly as often as she did – "Bloody Hell, Hermione, I was joking," he said with a wink, and she knew that he'd used his famous phrase on purpose just to get to her. She simply shook her head slightly, and looked back in the direction of Draco and his cronies. They'd disappeared, probably into one of the compartments. At least Pansy wasn't with them. Though, of course, it could simply have been that Hermione hadn't seen her. It seemed unlikely that Pansy would pass up on any opportunity to be near Draco.

"Come on, let's find a compartment," Hermione finally mumbled, not wanting to continue on that train of thought. She decided she would just expect all of the Slytherins to be there, rather than expect fewer of them, and deal with the truth later on.

"Why don't we find Luna and Neville?" Ron questioned, and Hermione's spirits instantly lifted.

"Neville's coming back?" She asked happily, and Ron nodded, "That sounds like a good idea then." It seemed strange that Neville being there could lift her spirits that much, but he was as close to a friend as anyone else Hermione knew on that train. Except perhaps Ginny, whom Hermione had known since second year.

Ron gave Hermione a slightly questioning look as they began to search the compartments for the pair, who would certainly be together. Hermione ignored him, not wanting to figure out what his look might mean. They walked about half the train – passing the Slytherin compartment, where to Hermione's encouragement Pansy was not seated – before finally finding the pair. They entered the compartment, and were greeted by smiles and hugs from both:

"I didn't know you were coming back!" Neville said to Ron enthusiastically, "I thought you'd decided to train as an Auror."

Ron's cheeks turned red again, and he shook his head: "I'm not coming back, I'm just bringing Hermione's things in for her." He held up the bags in his hands, and piled them in the overhead compartment as he said this. Neville's face instantly drooped, but he brought himself together again when Harry and Ginny appeared in the doorway.

"Can we fit this stuff in here?" Harry questioned, holding up Ginny's bags. Their trunks, of course, were already loaded underneath the train.

Both Neville and Luna nodded enthusiastically, and another round of embraces began.

"It is really too bad that you aren't coming back this year," Luna breathed, gesturing to Ron and Harry, "We really will all miss you."

Harry and Ron nodded, but before they could respond a whistle sounded, signaling that the train was ready to leave and would be departing soon. Again, Hermione felt the familiar pang, and the knot in her stomach tightened. She wished she could just hold onto Ron and Harry, and keep them on the train with her. She felt her eyes become teary, and turned and buried her face in Harry's chest before anyone could see.

"I'll miss you," she whispered, breaking off the hug a moment later and turning to Ron, who had been similarly embracing his sister. Ginny turned to Harry as Hermione turned to Ron.

"You'll write?" Hermione questioned, which seemed stupid and cliché, but was the only thing that she could think of at the moment.

Ron simply nodded, and Hermione fell into his arms, hugging him tightly. He embraced her, and then the two broke apart. Ron touched Hermione's cheek gently, and she felt a tingle go through her at his touch. Then he leaned in and kissed her, pressing his lips against hers as though he never wanted to let her go. And Hermione wished he didn't have to. She kissed him back, feeling warmth run through her whole body, and when they broke away she felt cold where he was no longer there.

"Don't go," she whispered, winning the prize for the two most cliché statements that she could possibly have made, but she honestly didn't care.

"Hermione, you know I have to," Ron said, "Hogwarts just isn't for me anymore."

Nodding, Hermione gave him a second hug, and then watched as he turned and followed Harry out of the compartment. She felt tears welling up in her eyes for the second time that day. Looking over at Ginny, it seemed that her friend felt exactly the same way. Hermione reached over and put her arm around Ginny's shoulders, giving away comfort that she herself desperately needed. And, she realized, hated that she needed.

"Hey, at least we have each other," Hermione stated, though the words felt somehow empty. Ginny nodded, and gave Hermione a quick hug.

"I have to go to the Prefect's cabin – you know – sorry." Then she turned and walked out of the compartment as well, and Hermione felt entirely alone. Which was a feeling that she absolutely hated.

* * *

Hermione curled up in a seat by the window, and waved half-heartedly to Ron as the train pulled out of the station. She didn't know what it was, the feeling that had hit her just now, but she didn't like it. It scared her. She knew that being entirely dependent on anyone was something that she had always loathed, but she had never realized that this had started to be how it was with Ron. She loved Ron, never wanted to be with anyone else. He was her best friend besides Harry, but that was different of course. Harry was like her brother.

Sighing, Hermione pushed these strange thoughts to the back of her head, and turned to face Neville and Luna, who were both staring at her compassionately, as though they knew what was going on inside her head.

"So – how was your summer?" she questioned, though at the moment she could not care less about their answers. Luna tilted her head slightly, and gave Hermione her typical smile. Then, setting down her upside down Quibbler, she reached out and gently gripped Hermione's hand:

"It's alright, you know. To not talk if you don't want to," she stated softly, "I can tell you don't really care about our summers."

Luna's bluntness was, unexpectedly, the exact thing Hermione needed to cheer her up. She felt a bubble of laughter rise inside her, and then simply gave in and burst out laughing. Neville and Luna smiled, and gave each other knowing looks. The two had developed quite a deep friendship since the war, and had grown to know each other quite well. As well as Luna could be known, that is.

"I'm just – well – upset about Harry and Ron not coming back," Hermione finally sighed, "and…" she broke off, not sure how much she should tell them. It wasn't like her strange feeling really mattered, and she hadn't even figured it out herself. Most likely it was simply her mind being overdramatic about the situation. She couldn't deny that she'd felt – well – slightly betrayed by Ron ever since he'd decided not to come back, but she knew it wasn't his fault. She just needed to get over it.

Neither Neville nor Luna pressed her for more information; instead, both nodded sympathetically.

"It will be strange," Neville agreed, "Though, maybe we will have a quieter year without them." He winked at Hermione, and she laughed softly, though it hadn't really helped. As much as a quiet year sounded good, she would far rather have a repeat of the many non-quiet years if it meant having Harry and Ron back with her.

"So, why are you coming back?" she asked Neville, "After your incredible display with the snake last year, I'd be surprised if they didn't accept you into Auror training. And didn't you finish seventh year anyways? I mean, you were back last year when the three of us – Harry, Ron, and I - weren't."

Neville blushed slightly, and tilted his head: "That really wasn't anything. I mean, anyone would have done it."

"No, they – "

"Besides!" Neville cut her off, "I don't want to be an Auror. I was thinking I'd like to be a teacher, maybe Herbology when Professor Sprout retires. Last year, with the DA and the Carrows, well it wasn't much of a year for learning, and nobody wrote their NEWTS anyways. I'll need those if I want to teach."

Hermione couldn't help but smile at this, thinking that she definitely should have guessed. As much as Neville had improved over the last few years, he wasn't the type to desire to be an Auror.

"Do you know who else is coming back?" Hermione questioned, suddenly realizing why Pansy wasn't on the train. She had technically been there last year as well, and it was unlikely that with a brain like hers she was planning on doing anything that would require NEWTs.

Neville considered this for a moment, "Well, I think Seamus's mother wanted him to come back, get his NEWTs properly and all. I don't know what he decided. I don't think Dean had plans to return. Parvati was going to come back, so I suppose her sister – "

"Padma," Luna injected.

"Padma," Neville continued, "would be coming back as well. That's about all I know. I don't know many outside of Gryffindor. Oh- " Neville's face brightened again, "Actually, I heard that Ernie and Susan were coming back too. We aren't going to be the only ones, Hermione."

Hermione rolled her eyes: "You know, that's what I'm worried about. I saw Malfoy on the train earlier. _Draco Malfoy_," she repeated, as though clarification was necessary.

Neville's face immediately fell, so quickly that if they hadn't been discussing Malfoy it would have been comic, "Why in – why would _he_ come back? Doesn't his family have money stored away that would last them for years? Are you sure you saw him? And he didn't get off?" As much as she agreed with Neville, Hermione couldn't help but chuckle at his panic. He immediately turned to Luna for some kind of support, as though Hermione's laughter meant that she was no longer on his side. Unfortunately for him, Luna had gone back to her upside down Quibbler and was no longer paying attention to either of them.

"Go check if you want," Hermione responded, "He's only a few compartments down from us; him, Theodor, and Daphne."

"Yeah, and get my face hexed off? No thanks," Neville huffed.

Hermione sighed: "You stood up to _Lord Voldemort_ last year. Don't you think you can stand up to a few Slytherins?" she questioned.

Neville considered this, biting the inside of his cheek, a habit much like Hermione's eye rolling. "You know what, you're right," he finally stated, "I'm not going to let them push me around anymore – "

Right on cue, their compartment door swung open. Hermione turned, expecting to see Malfoy along with Crabbe and Goyle, ready to taunt Harry as per usual. Then she remembered that Harry was no longer here, and neither were Malfoy's two cronies. Instead, it was Ernie:

"It's so good to see you guys! I thought it was going to be Susan and me alone with the Slytherins. Have you guys seen? Malfoy is coming back."

"You're a little late to the: _what is Malfoy doing here_ party," Hermione responded sarcastically, though she also started laughing. Ernie shot her a confused look, and she expounded: "We were just discussing that."

"Oh," he stated, stepping into the compartment, followed by Susan, "Any conclusions?" he questioned as the two sat down.

"None," Neville jumped in, "Except that he's such a git he plans to come back just to make more people's lives miserable." Ernie and Susan laughed, then turned to Hermione:

"Harry and Ron not here?" Susan questioned, her voice it's normal chirpy and happy tone, which bothered Hermione for some reason.

"No, they're training to be Aurors," Neville responded, noticing the annoyance that had passed through Hermione's eyes. _What's up with her?_ He wondered, and then put it down to her still getting over missing her friends.

Hermione felt her eyes mist up again, and once more her stomach began to knot itself tightly. She turned quickly and looked out the window, drowning out the conversation. She wished she had kept a book with her, but they were all in her bags, which she would have to stand up and grab at in order to retrieve. _What's going on with me?_ She wondered, _I thought I was used to the idea of being at Hogwarts without them. Or at least as used to it as I'll ever be_. But she had obviously been wrong. Only now, she didn't only feel upset about being left alone, and aggravated at feeling dependent on someone else, but also angry. Angry that they couldn't just take one more year out of their Auror training to finish off their schooling. It wasn't like it was going to hurt them anyways. She rested her head against the window, and entirely unexpectedly, with the train bumping along the tracks, and her mind still racing, closed her eyes and fell asleep.

* * *

"Draco! What's up with you today? Get your head out of the clouds!" Daphne stated, poking Draco in the shoulder. He glared at her, shoving her hand away, but turned from the window nonetheless. Daphne sat across from, pushing her dirty blonde hair out of her eyes and glaring back at him.

"You alright?" Theo questioned, studying Draco from his seat near the compartment door. He already knew the answer, both the correct one and the one Draco would actually respond with, but he asked the question anyway.

"I'm fine," Draco stated coolly, feeling a small tinge of guilt for lieing to his friends, but quickly pushing it aside. He didn't want to burden them with his problems, or at least, that is what he told himself. In reality, he was still holding on to the small strand of dignity he thought he had left, and had decided that keeping up appearances was the best way not to lose this.

Astoria, Daphne's younger sister, groaned from beside him: "We all know you're lieing, Malfoy." He shuddered slightly at the use of his last name, wondering when this had started to bother him. At one point, he had forced everyone to call him that. _It's because of the stupid war, _he told himself, _the Malfoy name doesn't command the same respect it used to._

It took him a moment to realize that he hadn't answered her question. Not that she had technically asked a question, but it was certainly implied in her words. Or at least Draco assumed it was, though he could simply be overanalyzing the situation. He shook his head slightly to clear it, reminded himself that these were his friends, and he didn't have to analyze everything when he was with them. _But don't you? Don't you always have to analyze everything?_ He shook away this voice, too.

"Look, I'm fine," Draco finally responded, though the cold tinge was no longer present in his voice, "Alright?"

His three friends nodded, though none of them looked convinced in the slightest. Draco turned away from them, aggravated, "Where's Blaise?" he questioned, after a moment.

"Probably with some girl, like usual," Theo joked, "That's the only reason he came back, and we all know it."

Daphne gave Theo a disgusted look, shoving him into the door. Draco grinned at her coyly, earning him another hard poke in the shoulder. He'd known for the last what – two years? – that Daphne had a thing for Zabini, but the kid was entirely blind to it. Which was absolutely hilarious at times.

The compartment went silent for a moment, everyone lost in their own thoughts. Then Astoria leaned over on Draco's shoulder, putting her arm around him and closing her eyes. Over her head, Draco saw Theo's eyes narrow, and groaned inwardly. Draco and Astoria weren't officially a couple – which was only due to his continually putting it off, knowing Theo's feelings – but it bothered Draco to no end that Theo wouldn't just say something to her. Theo was no Zabini when it came to girls, of course, but he couldn't expect Draco to hold off Astoria forever. He sighed, audibly this time. One of the things he hated most was relationship drama when his friends were involved. After all, if there was one thing Slytherins cared about most, it was their friends.

Draco was in luck this time, however. The lunch-trolley witch came knocking on their compartment door at just that moment, giving Draco an excuse to move away from Astoria in order to grab his money. He handed the witch a galleon and she gave him a random assortment of treats from the trolley. Feeling like he was once again in first year, he snatched a Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans from the pile and gestured to his friends to help themselves. If there was one thing that the Malfoy's hadn't suffered after the war, it was loss of money.

"Here, Theo," Draco stated, tossing his friend a random bean. Theo grinned and popped it in his mouth, chewing slowly. Then his face wrinkled in disgust and he swallowed quickly:

"Dirty socks," he choked out. Everyone laughed, and Draco felt instantly better. Maybe this year wouldn't be so bad after all. He plucked out another bean and handed it to Astoria, who looked wary, but put it in her mouth reluctantly. Then she grinned:

"Grape," she stated, sucking slowly on the bean. Daphne groaned loudly:

"You probably gave that to her on purpose!" she accused him.

Draco held up his hands in self-defense: "I did not!" Daphne simply glared at him, though there was no malice in her eyes. Finally she broke the silence:

"Alright, give me one." Draco grinned at her, and made a show of closing his eyes and randomly choosing another bean, which he tossed to her. She popped it in her mouth, and immediately spit it back out.

"Banana! I hate banana!" She spewed, narrowing her eyes as her three friends laughed at her. She knew what they were thinking: _Banana? Really?_ But she'd had a bad experience with a banana when she was young, and hadn't been able to swallow one since.

"Your turn, Draco," Theo stated, gesturing for Draco to give him the box. Reluctantly, Draco handed it over, and Theo haphazardly shuffled through them, before pulling out a rather strange looking multicolored one: "Here," he said, handing it over.

"Unfair!" Draco argued, "You don't get to pick! I just chose randomly." Either way, he took the bean from Theo, and looked it over before sticking it in his mouth. A mixture of terrible tastes invaded Draco's taste buds, and he felt like he was going to be sick. Putting his hand to his mouth, he coughed, spitting out the bean without being noticed: "I have no idea what that one was! It tasted awful," he stated, pretending to swallow.

Theo pulled out the key card and looked over the list of all the beans in Draco's package: "Oh! It's a rare one. A mixture of all your least favorite tastes. How'd you even finish it?" He glanced at Draco with respect, before noticing the sheepish look that had made its home on Draco's face: "Oh."

Draco held out the half eaten bean, and quickly stuck it in the empty chocolate frog box that Daphne had been holding. She was studying the card intently, and after a moment handed it to Draco, "Look at this," she said, face and voice blank.

Taking the card from her hand, Draco needed only to glance at it to see what had his friend so stricken. Potter's face looked out at them, just as annoyingly as ever. The explanation under the card was so long, and in such tiny font, that Draco could barely read it.

"The first and only known wizard to survive the Killing Curse, earning the title "The Boy Who Lived." Youngest Quidditch player in the last century after gaining the spot of Seeker in the Gryffindor Quidditch Team in his first year at Hogwarts in 1991. Also known for having found Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets and defeating the monster within, which was a basilisk, in his second year at Hogwarts. Only known Gryffindor student able to speak Parseltongue. Youngest competitor of the Triwizard Tournament and winner of said Tournament at the age of 14 in 1995. The last master of death for having gained true possession of all three Deathly Hallows. Most famous for the defeat of the most dangerous dark wizard of all time, Lord Voldemort, in 1998."

Draco scowled, and crumpled up the card in his hand, gaining him yet another hard poke to the shoulder:

"Hey! Maybe I wanted that," Daphne stated, frowning at him, "I don't have that one yet, obviously."

"And you don't need it," Draco responded coldly, feeling jealously well up in him again, as well as annoyance. He'd had extremely mixed feelings regarding Potter, ever since the war. Potter and Weasley had saved his life, twice. And Potter had returned his wand once The Battle of Hogwarts had ended. Draco had tried to tell himself that he had technically saved Potter's life first, that night in Malfoy Manor, but he knew that was somehow different. He hadn't even fully figured out his own reasoning for doing it, after all. All he knew was that if he had identified Potter, knowing full well that it was him, Voldemort would have shown up and the whole war could have ended quite differently. Draco shuddered at the thought. Either way, he was used to disliking Potter, so he tried to keep it that way.

"I've got Newt Scamander," Astoria stated, sighing, "I already have like six of him."

Theo laughed: "What are we, first years? We've been through the Second Wizarding War and we're still collecting chocolate frog cards?"

This out loud mention of the Second Wizarding War brought silence into the compartment again, as all four of them found themselves pummeled with memories and regrets. Though they all came from slightly different backgrounds, and had different experiences with the war, they had come out generally the same. More-or-less thankful for Voldemort's demise.

"Here, pass me a frog," Theo cut in quickly, trying to bring back the lighthearted mood that had broken through their gloom for once, "I need to get me one of those Potter ones," he said with a wink. Astoria and Daphne laughed half-heartedly.

Draco glared at him. "Not funny, Theo," he stated simply.

Pulling out his card, Theo's eyes widened. "Not funny is right." Draco immediately made to snatch the card from his friends hand, but Theo pulled it away, "I mean it," he stated, "You don't want to see this one." Draco sighed dramatically and made to take his hand away, and then pounced over quickly, grabbing the card from Theo's hand. Theo simply shrugged: "Don't say I didn't warn you."

"It can't be that –" Draco began, and cut off as he caught the name on the card: _Hermione Granger. _He immediately went silent, causing Theo to laugh. Daphne attempted to retrieve the card from him, but he now pulled it away.

"It's the bloody mudblood – Granger," Draco spit out, causing the other three to go silent for a moment.

"Woah, Draco, let's not get carried away," Theo stated, "That's hardly proper language anymore."

Theo's rebuke hit Draco hard, especially because he hadn't actually meant it. The word just came out, which made him feel sick. _It's because that's who you are_, the little voice in the back of his head told him, _that's who you will always be_. Draco pushed the voice aside, not bothering to combat himself when he knew he would probably lose.

"Sorry," he muttered, still finding it difficult to let those words pass through his lips, even with his friends. He knew that he'd changed during and since the war, but it was extremely difficult to put aside everything that he'd ever been taught and forced to believe in. Especially when he was reminded of everything he'd done every time he looked at the – mark – on his arm. It had faded, but it was still easily visible. He wished he could make it disappear. Having a death eater father who still spouted off about Voldemort's defeat, and blamed his son in many ways, didn't help things. Draco sighed, wondering how he could have forgotten about all this for even a few moments. He knew this was why he needed his friends – if he was stuck by himself he would probably lose his sanity. That was one of the major reasons he had decided to come back this year. He couldn't have stood having to deal with his home life, and the regrets it caused, any longer.

Honestly, that was one of the reasons all of them had decided to come back.

* * *

Hermione was jolted awake, what seemed like only moments later, by the train pulling into the Hogsmeade station. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up from the window and surveyed the compartment. Luna was dozing, with her head on Neville's shoulder, who was flipping through her edition of the Quibbler. Ernie and Susan were whispering to her right, something about getting off the train before the "death eaters" got to them. She assumed they meant the Slytherins, only one of whom was actually a death eater, to Hermione's knowledge. She yawned slightly and then started as she realized that Ginny was now sitting across from her. How she had not noticed her in her search of the compartment she didn't know – perhaps she just had not been expecting to see her.

"What are you doing here?" She questioned, causing Ginny, who had been looking out the window, to jump slightly.

"I'm sorry," she stated, "I didn't realize you were awake. And I just got here like two minutes ago; I came when I realized the train was slowing down." Ginny yawned, and stretched out her arms, "Being Head Girl is hard work."

Hermione had a sudden urge to tell her not to complain; at least she got to _be_ head girl. Though she didn't actually say anything, Ginny's face gave away that she had practically read Hermione's thoughts.

"I'm sorry Hermione. That was thoughtless of me," Ginny stated, turning slightly red, reminding Hermione of Ron only hours earlier.

"Don't worry about it," Hermione responded, knowing that Ginny certainly hadn't meant anything by her comment. Besides, Hermione couldn't bear to have any kind of a fight with Ginny, who was her best friend here. The two sat in silence for a moment before Ginny finally broke it, speaking to everyone:

"We should probably get our stuff and get off the train. There's a special announcement that's going to be made before we can get going to Hogwarts, and McGonagall wanted me to hurry everyone up," Ginny said. Hermione looked at her quizzically:

"McGonagall's here at the station?" she questioned, confused. Hagrid was the only Professor to have ever shown up at the station before, as far as Hermione knew, "What's this announcement?"

Ginny turned slightly red once again: "I'm sorry – I'm not allowed to say," she responded apologetically, before grabbing her stuff and hurrying out of their compartment. Hermione sighed, trying not to have hard feeling towards Ginny, knowing that she would have been the same way had she been made Head Girl.

"We really should go, then," Luna said in her regular slow and gentle tone, having woken up only moments before, "We wouldn't want to be late." The others nodded and began grabbing their bags and heading out of the compartment, and off of the train.

* * *

McGonagall stood surveying the students as they exited the train in droves. Ginny Weasley and Midas Banks, the Head Boy and Girl, stood next to her; they were the only two aware of the new – rules – that she was planning on putting into place this year. God only knew how much Hogwarts needed a change after everything that had happened, and the prejudices that had developed during and after the war. McGonagall knew that, as difficult as last year had been, this year would likely be worse. _Or at least more important_. After all, what happened this year would likely shape Hogwarts forever. She had one chance to change these newly forming prejudices, and perhaps even to break down old ones. It was a challenge, but Kingsley Shacklebolt, their new Minister for Magic, had assured her that there was no one more suited to the job. Taking a step forward, McGonagall clapped her hands twice and whispered: "Sonorus," holding her wand up near her mouth.

"Attention students!" she called, her voice thundering on the small train platform. Silence descended almost immediately; those who had been to Hogwarts previously knew not to mess with McGonagall, and the first years were still in that "obey everything" phase. "I have a few short announcements before we head for Hogwarts. First, I want to welcome everyone back after all that – occurred – last year. I know that times have been difficult lately, and I hope we will be able to comfort one another and rely on each other if difficulties arise. However, due to the unfortunate circumstances surrounding the return and defeat of Lord Voldemort – " a hush ran through the body of students, many of whom were still not used to hearing anything other than _He Who Shall Not Be Named, " – _Myself and the other Professors have decided that changes are necessary. While more will be explained later, these changes begin tonight. Those travelling back to Hogwarts should know that the carriages have been bewitched with a spell so that they will only move when occupied by one student, and one student only, from each house. On entering the castle, each person will be required to give one fact about the three others in their carriage. Anyone who chooses not to comply with this – shall we say, test – will be appropriately dealt with. That is all, you may go." McGonagall clapped her hands, and the students began to move frantically about, grabbing their friends from different houses, and rushing for the carriages. She smiled knowingly and, turning on her heel, apparated back to the castle. Being Hogwarts Headmistress had its advantages.

* * *

Hermione managed to get a hold on Ernie and Luna, though she wasn't certain how Neville hadn't gotten to Luna first. The three were some of the first to make it to a carriage, and all breathed a sigh of relief. Ernie, being the gentleman he was, helped Luna and Hermione inside, before taking the seat across from the two of them.

"Guess I'm stuck with the Slytherin," Ernie joked, and Hermione smiled. Luna stared at the two of them for a moment, as though looking through them, and then turned around to stroke one of the Thestrals. Hermione turned to watch for a moment, before remembering that she could now see them as well. Closing her eyes, she turned back around. Memories pummeled her brain, making her feel sick.

"I can see them too, now," Ernie offered softly, "It's strange, knowing that they were here all along. They haven't changed at all, but we've changed immeasurably."

"Immeasurably is a funny way to say it," said Luna, turning back around and tilting her head. She didn't feel that she had changed immeasurably, though perhaps this was because she had always been able to see the Thestrals. She smiled gently at Ernie, and then pulled out her Quibbler, turning back to the page on the Crumple Horned Snorkack. Hermione, beside her, opened her eyes and turned to read over Luna's shoulder. While she didn't believe in much that the Quibbler had to say, it was a distraction from her thoughts.

"Oh, I've got the perfect carriage for you, Malfoy," Hermione heard after a moment, and immediately her head shot up, "Close your eyes," the same voice teased. Astoria, Malfoy, and Zabini were walking towards them, though only Astoria was looking her way. Hermione had only spoken to Astoria on one other occasion, but knew that it had been her voice. Malfoy made to look up, but Astoria shoved him playfully, "Trust me."

Glaring sideways at her, Draco sighed, "Well, I suppose it doesn't matter anyways. Unless we want to walk to Hogwarts and face whatever _consequences_ McGonagall has in store we're going to need to choose a carriage," he grumbled, "So fine, pick one for me." He made a dramatic show of closing his eyes. Draco had no desire to play games at the moment, but he was hoping that his cooperation would keep his friends from a continual questioning of his mental state. Anything was better than that.

Watching this from her perch in the carriage, Hermione's hands balled into fists. She knew how this was going to end. _Please, not Malfoy. Please, anyone but Malfoy. Anyone, anyone, anyone, _she repeated over and over in her mind.

Astoria turned and met Hermione's eyes, smiling playfully. During that short conversation Hermione had once had with her, Hermione had finally decided that perhaps not all Slytherins were terrible. _So much for that_, Hermione thought, wishing she could just leave, but having far too much pride for such a thing. Once again, she found herself thinking about Ron and Harry, and desperately wishing they were there with her. And again, that new feeling of annoyance and even anger invaded her mind and she shut down her thoughts.

Holding Draco's arm, Astoria led him to the door of their carriage. He walked in and she led him as to where to sit down. Then she let go of his arm, and both herself and Zabini burst out laughing.

Immediately, Draco knew something was wrong. His eyes shot open, and he saw that he was sitting across from none other than Granger. _What an idiot_, he mentally berated himself, _you think you can trust your friends for just one second._ He considered getting out, but had far too much pride for such a thing. Plus, there was the fact that an invisible boundary had been put in place the moment he had entered, so that wasn't even an option. _Idiot!_ He mentally reminded himself. Granger was glaring at him, and he returned the look, before doing a quick scan of the other members of his carriage. Some Hufflepuff whose name he couldn't quite remember, and Loony Lovegood. _Great_, he thought with an inward sigh. _This is going to be a long ride back to Hogwarts_.

_To be continued..._

* * *

**A/N: **So, this was a long chapter, but I wanted to bring Draco and Hermione together in some form before finishing. Let me know what you thought and thanks for reading! :)


	2. The Carriage Ride

**A/N:** Thank you all for the reviews on the first chapter, they are always appreciated! :)

This is a slightly shorter chapter, but still decently long, hence the break between updates. As mentioned before, I'm aiming for at least once a week, though I'll hopefully get to it a little more often than that!

Enjoy!

* * *

Hermione crossed her arms tightly across her chest, staring anywhere but at Malfoy, and silently willing the carriage to move. _Why couldn't we have gotten in the first carriage?_ She chided herself, _then we wouldn't have had to wait for the ones in front of us to go_.

Luna shifted beside her, having only just lowered her Quibbler and noticed the unfortunate turn of events, "Oh!" she exclaimed, "Hello."

Draco nodded curtly, not meeting her eyes. Luna had seen quite a bit of him at the Manor when she had been imprisoned there last year, and strangely that time had lessened her dislike for him rather than increased it.

"You don't look well," she told him, honestly. Hermione laughed, unable to hold her stoic stance any longer. She had forgotten that Malfoy was the one outnumbered here – she had Luna and Ernie. And Luna wasn't about to make him feel comfortable.

Draco shot a quick glare at Luna, though his heart wasn't in it at all. Honestly, he found it difficult to even look at her, and not because of her strange ways or oddness. She was just another reminder of everything that he had done. Turning, he stared back out of the carriage, resting his chin on his folded hands and feeling the stares of the other three.

"Why did you even – " Ernie began, but cut off as the carriage jerked forward in a swifter motion than usual. Both Draco and Ernie were caught off guard and thrown forward, almost onto the girls across from them.

"Sorry!" Ernie gasped quickly, collecting himself. Luna simply smiled at him, not bothered at all. Hermione, on the other hand, glared at Draco, who glared back at her. Now that this had begun, neither wanted to be the first to admit defeat and drop their gaze. It took about thirty seconds before Ernie waved his hand in between them, averting their eyes,

"Hey! The carriage ride isn't that long, and we do need to figure some things out," he stated, giving Hermione an apologetic look. She had transferred her gaze to him momentarily, aggravated that he had made her admit defeat. Not that Malfoy had won, but she had enjoyed seeing the discomfort in his eyes, behind the glare. Finally, Malfoy was the one who was not in control of the situation. Which felt quite exhilarating; almost enough to make her enjoy his presence in their compartment.

"What do we need to figure out?" Hermione questioned, her mind having gone blank after the recent events.

"Great Salazar! Is this the first time you haven't known something, Granger?" Draco asked, raising his eyebrows in a mocking fashion. Hermione shot him a nasty look, turning back to Ernie, but Draco couldn't let this moment slide. He couldn't remember the last time he'd known something that she didn't, and it gave him back a sense of control: "We're supposed to gain one fact about each person in our compartment," he told her, doing his best imitation of her know-it-all tone.

"You know, I don't think I asked you," Hermione responded coolly, her icy stare meeting his for the second time in about a minute, her hand brushing her wand.

"Guys!" Ernie broke in again, "Look, as much as I would love to see you hex him, Hermione, that isn't going to get us anywhere."

Scowling, Hermione took a deep breath and looked over at Ernie. Then a strange wave of embarrassment passed over her. _What's gotten into me?_ She thought. As much as she despised Malfoy – and knew that his sentiments towards her were the same – she was acting strangely. _Maybe McGonagall knew what she was doing when she didn't make me Head Girl. I'm not exactly wonderful at promoting the interhouse unity this is obviously hoping for. _Sighing slightly, she eyed Draco again:

"Fine. Can we put aside our prejudices for one minute and just get this over with?"

Draco's eyebrows rose again, "Honestly, Granger, I wasn't the one about to pull my wand out. I would like to think I've been quite – civil – considering our history."

Hermione fought off the urge to glare at him again, sensing the sarcastic undertone in his voice. She had to admit that he might have a point. After all, _civil_ between the two of them tended to mean not hexing the other into oblivion – and she was the one who had almost gone there. _Then again, I didn't actually pull out my wand_, she thought, _if I had, he'd probably have done the same_.

"I'm starting to think that my father might have made up Crumple Horned Snorkacks," Luna stated, out of the blue. The three others stared at her, confused. She simply tilted her head and smiled, "I thought that I might as well go first."

"You've only now figured that out," Hermione questioned, feeling all the tension of the earlier moment leave her. Luna had a habit of being able to do that.

Luna's face was entirely serious, "Well, it occurred to me last year. I had a lot of time to think, you know." Draco felt his stomach knot at this pronouncement, but Luna did not even look his way, "I expect the Wrackspurts are behind it. They come in your ears and make your brain go fuzzy. You can't think properly."

"Imagine that, a Ravenclaw who can't think properly," Ernie joked. Luna simply stared at him, as though she wasn't quite certain to what he was referring.

"Who's next?" Hermione questioned, trying to think of something to tell them that Malfoy couldn't use against her.

"I'll go," Ernie responded, "When I was born, I had blue hair. The doctors thought I was a Metamorphmagus or something, but it all washed away. They still haven't figured it out. It's pretty disappointing, honestly. I mean, have you ever met a Metamorphmagus? They're pretty incredible."

Hermione nodded, thinking of Tonks, and feeling that entirely familiar pang throughout her. Luna reached over and took her hand, squeezing it gently. Draco, who could really care less about Ernie's story, noticed this, and once again felt sick and terrible. He wished he could get out of the carriage; being with these people who had been on the opposite side during the War was almost unbearable. Not that he cared about Granger at all; he still despised her, really. But for different reasons than he once had.

"Malfoy?" Ernie stated, and there was no mistaking the tinge of hatred that laced the word. Draco considered; he absolutely despised having to talk about himself, but he didn't feel like facing whatever consequences McGonagall had for them back at the school, either. Finally, he sighed, thinking of one fact that really didn't matter at all:

"Once, when I was younger, I accidentally turned our family peacock orange. It's white, normally," He left out what had occurred after the incident – as if he was going to get into any of that.

"The Malfoy family owns a _peacock_?" Ernie scoffed, disbelief filling his voice, "That would have been the last thing I would have guessed."

Draco shrugged, and turned to look back out of the carriage. _Thank Salazar that's over with_, he thought. Hermione still had to go, but Draco could now simply listen and then ignore them. _I'm going to kill Blaise and Astoria_, he thought, wondering where the two of them had ended up. Certainly in no place worse than here. _Besides, it's not like they are hated as much as I am_, _so it won't be nearly as bad. _This thought brought back the flood of memories that constantly tortured him, and he closed his eyes, trying to shut down his brain.

After a moment, Hermione finally spoke, and Malfoy forced himself to listen: "I used to go to Muggle school, before I got my Hogwarts' letter," she began, feeling strange talking about her pre-Hogwarts' experiences, "And I failed one of my courses. Gym."

Ernie laughed, "I have no idea what _gym_ means, but that's hilarious. Are you sure you actually failed, or did you just get an E instead of an O?"

"Oh, we didn't have E's and O's," Hermione stated, "We had numbers and things. Like percentages."

Ernie and Luna looked at her in confusion. Draco did an inward eye roll, but didn't turn to join in. He had considered making a sarcastic comment, but decided that would just force him back into the conversation, which he wasn't sure was a good idea.

"When I got my first marks back from Hogwarts, I was so worried," Hermione continued, smiling at the thought of her younger self "I thought I had all zeros, but they were O's."

"You don't need to brag, Granger. Everyone already knows you're an insufferable know-it-all," Malfoy scoffed, unable to help himself, "We don't need to be reminded."

"Shut up, Malfoy," Ernie stated coldly, quite a different tone from his regular voice.

"Besides, that's hypocritical," Hermione added, face flushed with annoyance, "Everyone already knows you're an insufferable git. We don't need to be reminded."

"Oh, throwing my insults back on me? How clever, Granger," Draco drawled, though for some reason her comment hurt him, "Not quite so quick without Potter and the Weasel, are you?"

"Don't you dare insult Ron," Hermione stated, burning with anger now, "Besides, if I remember correctly, he's not the only one with an animal counterpart." Draco's eyes narrowed, remembering what was one of his most embarrassing moments during school.

"Twitchy little ferret, aren't you," Hermione continued, smiling in spite of herself at the memory, which had honestly been one of the best moments of her life.

Hermione's smile caught Draco entirely off guard, and whatever comeback he had been about to make was immediately wiped from his brain. The honest truth of the matter was that he had forgotten what they had even been arguing about. It wasn't like it had mattered; arguing with Hermione simply took Draco's mind off of everything that was constantly tormenting him otherwise. It gave him a small semblance of normality in the midst of the chaos that was everything else.

Then her words came back to him – _insufferable git_ – and he found himself feeling sick for about the hundredth time that day. There were so many things he wished that he could change. So many things that he would never be able to forgive himself for.

Hermione, looking up in confusion at Draco's lack of a comeback, saw a strange emotion flash through his eyes. Like a mixture of hurt and fear – or something along those lines. It was so unexpected that Hermione almost forgot who it was in front of her, and almost reached out to comfort him. Then she shook her head, clearing her mind and reminded herself that this was her sworn enemy.

"No comeback, Malfoy?" she scoffed, though the hatred in her voice felt strangely forced.

Draco's eyes steeled again, and he stared at her, "You're so childish, Granger."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione laughed, humorlessly: "I'm childish? I could point out many examples _your_ immaturity rather than mine."

"Feel free," Draco responded, though he immediately regretted it. His desire to push aside his inner thoughts was causing him to speak without thinking. He knew Hermione probably had infinite examples of his immaturity stocked up in that brain of hers, and he didn't exactly feel like being reminded of them.

"Well, 'mudblood' for example," Hermione began coolly, recalling all the times Draco had insulted the fact that she was muggle-born. She had been insecure enough back then, without his tormenting her about her blood status, "That's a pretty low insult."

All malice in Draco's gaze left for a moment, as he met her eyes, "Look, I haven't called you that since, what? Third year? Fourth _maybe_?" He left out the fact that he had slipped and called her the name not three hours before, on the train. What she didn't know wouldn't kill her.

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek, recalling watching Neville do the same not long before. It was true, when she thought about it. "Well, there was the Inquisitorial Squad in fifth year. And the Death Eaters in sixth. And, oh, keeping people locked up in your mansion, trying to turn Harry over to Voldemort, switching sides whenever it was convenient. You don't have a lot to commend you, Malfoy."

There it was. _And_, he thought, his stomach twisting viciously, _she doesn't know the half of it_. Draco felt as though the air had been punched out of his lungs, and he didn't even bother trying to respond.

This time, the look that passed through Draco's eyes was simply pain. And Hermione felt terrible for causing it, though she didn't understand why. After all, everything that she had said was entirely true. There should be no reason for _her_ to be the one feeling bad. He deserved it.

_You're not being fair, _a voice inside her said, _you're upset about Harry and Ron and everything that happened last year, and you're taking it out on him. It wasn't all Malfoy's fault_. Guilt crawled up Hermione's back as she realized that this was probably true. She hadn't been thinking or acting like herself all day, and was taking it out on the nearest possible person. _I wish Ron was here, _she thought, feeling tears welling up in her eyes again. Her emotions felt entirely confused, and she had no idea how to respond. She wasn't used to feeling this way, and absolutely hated it.

The two avoided each other's gazes as the carriage slowed and pulled up to the Hogwarts grounds. Neither Ernie nor Luna bothered to break the silence; Luna had gone back to her Quibbler, and Ernie was looking out into the forest, purposefully ignoring the situation. As soon as the carriage stopped, the invisible boundary removed itself. Draco snatched his bags from the floor, and before Hermione knew what she was doing she reached out and grabbed his sleeve:

"Look, Malfoy, I – "

He pulled away quickly, "Don't touch me."

Hermione glared at him again, all feelings of strange compassion dissipating, "Oh, yeah, wouldn't want to get my mudblood germs all over you," she stated frostily.

Draco tensed, but didn't return her stare or comment back. Instead, he simply tightened his grip on his things and stepped out of the carriage, walking quickly towards the Hogwarts' gate. Hermione watched him leave, not sure whether she should feel good or bad about how she handled that situation. Honestly, she simply felt relieved.

It did bother her though, that Malfoy's eyes hadn't held the same hatred or coldness that they always had. In fact, now that she thought about it, he hadn't looked good at all.

"Thank goodness," Ernie muttered, turning back around to face Hermione, "I was about ready to hex him myself. If I never have to speak to him again, it will be too soon."

Hermione nodded slowly, reminding herself that Malfoy's mental state was hardly her concern. Only moments ago she _had_ been ready to hex him, and with the worst spell she could think of. What had changed?

"He didn't look well," Luna said softly, peeking out over her Quibbler and answering Hermione's thoughts.

Ernie laughed scornfully, "You say that like it's a _bad_ thing. It's about time those Slytherins – and Malfoy in particular – got a taste of their own medicine. I really should have let you hex him, Hermione."

Hermione smiled slightly at the thought. Maybe it would have been better if she'd hexed Malfoy after all – then she wouldn't be having these strange thoughts now. _It's just your compassionate nature_, her mind told her_, it bothers you to see someone in pain, no matter who they are. He's still a git – and a death eater – he's not your concern._ Hermione nodded, and then remembered that she was nodding to her own mind, which wasn't a generally accepted practice. And she wasn't certain she had herself entirely convinced, either.

"You okay?" Ernie questioned, "Honestly, I still can't believe you _didn't_ hex him. He's such a git." Ernie grabbed his bags and jumped out of the carriage, setting them down before helping the girls out. Hermione studied his still tensed features, slightly confused. She hadn't seen this side of the Hufflepuff before

"Ernie," Hermione questioned, when the two were alone. Luna had walked off, reading her Quibbler and mentioning that she was going to look for Neville, "Did Malfoy seem different to you at all? Like, in any way?"

Raising his eyebrows in shock, Ernie's mouth fell slightly open, "Not you too! Hermione, this is _Malfoy_! There's nothing different about him. He's probably just upset – like the rest of the death eater's – that the Dark Lord was defeated. Nothing more."

Hermione considered this. It was possible, she supposed, but somehow she wasn't entirely convinced. _Oh well, _she decided_, it doesn't matter anyways. You have enough to worry about without nosing into other people's business. Especially Malfoy's_.

"You're probably right," Hermione conceded, looking back at Ernie, "Come on, let's get up to the castle and find the others."

Ernie nodded and the two walked through the gates and up towards Hogwarts.

* * *

"I hate you guys," Draco seethed, catching up to Astoria and Blaise, who had been in the two carriages ahead of him, "What were you thinking, putting me with _her_?"

Astoria gulped slightly, but Blaise just laughed, "Awe, c'mon man. It was just a bit of fun," he stated, punching Draco lightly on the shoulder.

"Well it _wasn't_ fun. Not at all," Draco stated coolly, "I mean, of all people. Granger."

"What did she do, try to hex you?" Blaise questioned, voice light.

Draco nodded slightly, "Almost. I'm sure she would have if the Hufflepuff hadn't stopped her," he stated.

"Hufflepuffs, always the peace keepers," Astoria mocked jokingly, but Draco shook his head.

"No, it wasn't like that. He wanted her to hex me, but said we had better tell each other our little secrets first," Draco responded dramatically, trying to catch onto the light hearted nature of his friends, and knowing at the same time that it was pointless. Being in the carriage had made him feel even worse – and more confused. _What was up with Granger?_ He wondered. Honestly, she had every reason to despise him, and had acted like she did, but then grabbing his sleeve? What was she playing at?

"Ooh," Astoria teased, drawing him out of his thoughts, "And what dirty little secret did you tell them?" She questioned, waggling her eyebrows humorously.

Draco sighed, "Can we just drop this?" Neither responded, but he could see them giving each other concerned looks "behind his back." Draco scowled, "You know what, never mind. I'll see you two at the castle." With that, he turned, and walked to the right. He wasn't planning on going anywhere; he simply needed to get away from them and away from people in general.

* * *

"Wait up!"

Hermione and Ernie paused at the sound of Neville's voice, and turned to see him, Luna, and Susan hurrying across the grounds to meet them. It took only a few seconds for everyone to catch up, and a few more for each runner to catch their breaths. As soon as Neville did he coughed out: "I had Daphne Greengrass in my compartment. It was kind of strange."

Ernie groaned, "You think you had it bad? Guess who we had?"

Neville considered this, and then his eyes widened, "No, you didn't!" he stated.

Ernie nodded. "Assuming we're thinking about the same person, yes."

"Malfoy?"

"Yup."

Both Neville and Susan looked at the other three with respect. "How did you survive?" Neville finally questioned.

"It really wasn't all that bad," Luna broke in calmly, "It truly could have been far worse."

Hermione found herself nodding, and then stopped, entirely confused with herself. _What is going on? Only a few hours ago my entire day was almost ruined by the idea of Malfoy coming back; now I'm admitting that having to sit across from him for the carriage ride 'wasn't bad.'_ She shook her head to clear it, but found that everything stayed exactly the same.

"Wasn't bad?" Ernie questioned, awestruck, "It was _awful_!"

Hermione again nodded, and then forced herself to turn away from the group for a moment to gather her thoughts. Rather than being gathered they became more confused than ever, as she saw someone sitting alone on the edge of the forest. Someone with a shock of platinum blonde hair, which could only belong to Malfoy.

She hadn't realized that she had stopped before Ernie shook her shoulder, "Come on, Hermione. We should really get up to the castle." Hermione nodded absentmindedly, wondering why in the world Malfoy would be sitting by himself in the dark before the feast. It didn't fit with anything she knew about him; she would have expected him to be terrorizing the other students or something. Sitting by himself, he seemed so…

_Normal_.

Hermione bit her lip and turned to walk with the others. _What are you thinking? He's a death eater! He's anything but normal, _she chastised herself_. Besides, he was practically the same old git he's always been not two minutes ago in the carriage. _Something about these thoughts didn't fit, but Hermione forced herself to put it out of her mind. Not that it was likely to work. She was used to everything fitting together and making sense to her, and when something didn't she had a tendency to want to figure it out. It was like the Muggle puzzles she used to do with her parents – Hermione always hated leaving them undone. She would spend hours finishing it after her parents had gone to bed, unable to leave the picture unfinished. Which was all this was, of course. Hermione wanted to know exactly what was up with Draco Malfoy. Only here she didn't have all the pieces, which was even worse. Honestly, she probably only had one or two, and was trying to fit together the entire puzzle. Either way, as odd as it was, she didn't think it could end up being anything good.

Which made her think of Harry and his _death eater_ theory in their sixth year. She hadn't believed him then, but he'd been right. And with all of these thoughts in her head, she ended up thinking of Ron again, and her heart ached. _I knew it would be hard, but not this hard, _she thought, _I didn't realize how used I was to having him around all the time. _Her hand felt empty, somehow, and she wished that he were there holding it.

_He'll write_, she reminded herself, _and he'll visit. _

_ It's not the same, _her most internal voice told her, _and you know it_.

And she did. It made her want to cry, for about the fiftieth time that day. She needed to pull herself together; she was going to be here for a year without them and she needed to get used to it. But the idea of having to be at Hogwarts all year without Harry and Ron was still too fresh – and it pushed all thoughts of Malfoy's strangeness far from her mind.

_Pull yourself together, Hermione_, she told herself, _you've got lots of other friends – just look around – you're going to be fine_.

She had a strange feeling that she was lying to herself, if this was even possible.

* * *

Draco sat on a large stone, staring out into the forest. It wasn't nearly his favorite spot on the grounds, but good enough for the escape he had needed. _What's wrong with me?_ He asked himself. Not that he expected an answer. For the last two years, ever since he had – taken – the dark mark, everything had been entirely messed up in his brain. He'd started questioning everything he'd ever known, to the point where he'd actually been relieved when the dark lord had been defeated. Something his father would not be happy to figure out, though of course he was already suspicious.

As much as the conversation with Granger had helped to clear his head, as arguing often did, it had also confused him and he didn't know what to do about it. He'd always despised the mudbl – muggle born – witch, but he now wondered if perhaps even that was just his upbringing.

Letting out a sign of aggravation, Draco ran a hand through his blond fringe, feeling increasingly frustrated. All he wanted was some semblance of normality – of _clarity_ – and he couldn't even get that. Not even in a conversation with bloody Granger. _Merlin, she just wants to stick her nose in everyone's business_, he thought angrily, picking up a stone and tossing it at a tree, _stupid mudblood_. This time, the word entered his thoughts before he could fend it off, but he didn't feel all that guilty. He was too drained and puzzled to care anymore; all he wanted was to eat and then get to sleep. But to do the former meant interacting with people, which he desperately didn't feel like doing at the moment.

_Why did I come back again?_ He questioned himself, though he knew the answer. He'd needed to get away, and he'd needed to write his NEWTs. Why it was so important to him he couldn't answer, like everything else lately, but it was. Plus, he'd hoped being with the other Slytherins would help him sort everything out. So far they'd only stuck him in a carriage with Granger and made everything worse. _So much for friendship_, he thought, though for some reason the thought now made him grin. Really, it was a small normality, if nothing else. It was certainly something they would have done a few years ago, before everything that had happened.

But everything _had_ happened. Draco clenched his eyes shut for a moment, once again needing to fend off the images that threatened his brain. The ones he couldn't control, couldn't resist, and couldn't understand.

Merlin, he couldn't understand _anything_ these days. He knew what his father would say – something about him being a Malfoy and Malfoy's never showing weakness of any sort. That had become his default mode – never letting anyone see the real him. He'd always thought his father was right, that it made things easier. Now he saw the true consequences involved in doing so for years – he no longer knew who he really was, either.

Draco heard the grinding of metal that meant the last students must have come through, and the gates were now closing. Turning to look, he confirmed this suspicion, proving that at least his logical powers hadn't been affected. Though he had already known this, of course. He also knew that he had better get to the castle; he didn't exactly want detention on his first night back.

Slipping silently behind the final group of students, Draco continued up the path to Hogwarts without a word. He noticed Theo a little ways up, and wondered how he had managed to fall so far behind the others. Draco hadn't gotten to know Theo well during his years at Hogwarts, but both had been 'forced' to become death eaters after their father's failures in the Department of Mysteries. Of course it was Draco, not Theo, who actually received a mission for the dark lord, which he had put down to his father's higher rank in the dark lord's group of supporters. And it was Draco, not Theo, who actually wanted the position and wanted to follow the dark lord. The two had come to know each other far better last year, and Theo had finally confessed that he had been forced to receive the mark. He hadn't technically resisted, but he never wanted it. Draco knew that if time could be reversed, he would feel the same.

Or did he know that?

Once again, Draco had to fight back the flood of memories that he was so sick up putting up with. And this time, he was pulled out of them by an unfriendly voice:

"Your facts?" Filch questioned nastily.

Draco hadn't even realized that he'd reached the Entrance Doors to the castle, he'd been so lost in thought. He frantically scanned his mind and came up entirely empty. _This isn't actually happening_, he berated himself_, you were actually paying attention, too_. He forced himself to focus on everything that they had said in the carriage, and finally recalled Ernie's being born with blue hair and Granger's having something to do with Muggle school grades. But Lovegood's? He had absolutely no idea.

For some reason, rather than admitting this, he just glared at Filch and didn't give over any of his facts, making him seem entirely guilty. But, honestly, he knew he didn't have anyone to back him up and no one would believe his word alone. _You're an idiot, Draco_, he told himself.

Filch's eyes narrowed and his face curled up into an ugly sneer, though it was quite clear that he was happy about the situation, "You just wait over there," he said in that cold drawl that was typical of Filch. Draco searched the ground for Mrs. Norris, and found her sitting only a few feet away on the other side of the Entrance Hall. He made sure to steer clear of her, as he moved over to where Filch had mentioned. Not that surprisingly, he was the only one there. Obviously everyone else had taken McGonagall's threat seriously – which he had meant to do – and were now safe in the Great Hall. Draco scowled, both at himself and also at the silly rule that had gotten him into this stupid situation.

A few moments later McGonagall appeared, which surprised Draco. He'd thought she would be in the Great Hall by now, but apparently her stupid carriage rule was actually important to her.

"Awe, Mr. Malfoy. I wish I could say it is a surprise to see you here, but while I hadn't hoped to see anyone, you certainly wouldn't have been the last on my list of those who would disregard my instructions," she stated crisply. Draco cringed inwardly, feeling slightly hurt by her accusation, especially because he legitimately had tried to pay attention.

"Professor, I – " he began, trying to defend himself.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy, but I don't have time to listen to excuses at the moment. I believe I made myself quite clear that there would be consequences if one was unable to follow my – very simple – instructions," McGonagall began. Draco felt his eyes narrowing, conflicted emotions rising within him. In once sense he felt the injustice of the situation, whereas somewhere else a voice told him that he deserved it.

"As such," McGonagall continued coolly, "Your entire carriage group will be forced to report to my office tomorrow evening for detention."

Draco's head shot up and he met her eyes, "My _whole_ group?" He questioned, feeling even worse about the situation.

McGonagall nodded sternly, "This was a group exercise, and as such the result is a group punishment. Who were the other students in your carriage, Mr. Malfoy?" she questioned.

Feeling slightly sick, Draco recited the three names: "Lovegood, Granger, and Ernie something."

"Miss Granger?" McGonagall questioned, eyebrows raised in disbelief. She found it quite difficult to believe that such an intelligent student could not think of a way to get three other people working together. Perhaps Ginny _had _been the better choice for Head Girl after all.

Draco nodded, just wanting this conversation to be over with. What a way to start the semester. Detention with Granger.

"Well, I shall notify them of the unfortunate results of your – display of teamwork. Though I am uncertain as to why they aren't also standing here?" She eyed Draco peculiarly, and he just shrugged. Obviously any excuse he made wouldn't make a difference.

"Well, you had better get into the Great Hall. There are some important announcements to be made, and I do not want them to be missed," McGonagall stated firmly, turning around quickly and heading for the Great Hall. Draco watched her go, feeling even worse than he had when he realized that he didn't remember Luna's fact. He was worried enough about being hated already; this would simply make him more of a target, getting three other students detention. _Merlin, maybe father was right. Maybe I shouldn't have come back_, he thought, starting to regret what now seemed like a terrible decision. All he wanted now was to head for the dormitories and sleep, hope things would look somewhat better in the morning.

But he knew that wasn't a great idea, not after that encounter. McGonagall would probably be looking to make sure he was there.

_Some beast_, _that's what it was_, Draco's mind chose now to remind him, _Lovegood said she didn't believe in some creature her father had told her about. _He had no idea of the name, but knew that probably would have been enough had he remembered it only two minutes ago.

With an aggravated sigh, Draco shoved his hands into the pockets of his robes and headed into the Great Hall after the Headmistress.

_To be continued..._

* * *

**A/N: **So, there was quite a lot of thought and not a lot of talk for quite a bit of this chapter - there will definitely be more interaction as they go on, just working to establish each character's perspective.

I'd love to know your thoughts, and thanks so much for reading! :)


	3. Start-of-Term Feast

**A/N: **Hey all! Thanks so much for the reviews - glad to see you're enjoying it so far :)

I actually can't believe I finished this chapter so quickly; I've been involved in the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, as well as writing a 12-15 page paper for Uni. Lucky you guys, I guess ;)

Anyways, hope you enjoy!

* * *

"I still can't believe it – Draco Malfoy?" Ginny exclaimed, for about the third time since she had joined Hermione and Neville at the Gryffindor table, "And you didn't hex him into next week?" Hermione found herself grinning at her friend, and certainly feeling better about the situation. Apparently she had been wrong – which didn't often happen – but it seemed that Ginny's Head Girl appointment had not been due to an incredible desire to promote interhouse unity.

"Yes, Ginny. _Draco Malfoy_. The one and only ferret," Hermione responded, getting laughs from both of her friends. It was funny how she had been so conflicted about Draco, and thoughts of Ron had distracted her, and then she had been so conflicted about Ron and now thoughts of Draco were distracting her. Then again, perhaps it was just Ginny who was distracting her, and making her feel better about both situations.

"Really, Hermione. I mean, after you slapped him in third year, I really can't believe you didn't hex him," Ginny stated again, looking truly confused and almost disappointed in her friend. Hermione simply sighed and shrugged slightly. She really had nothing to say because she herself had no idea why she hadn't hexed him. Of course, for a moment she had thought something was different, and then he had made it obvious that this was only an illusion. But then he was sitting by himself out near the forest…

Hermione caught movement by the entrance doors out of the corner of her eye, and turned to watch McGonagall walk in and head towards the front. The first years were already gathered there, with everyone else slightly confused as to why the ceremony hadn't begun yet. Hermione had simply assumed that something else had come up, something that needed to be dealt with first. And McGonagall had only walked a few feet when another figure entered.

_Malfoy?_ Hermione thought, slightly confused. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his robe, and he looked entirely put out. Looking up, his eyes met hers for only a moment, and she saw his signature sneer plastered there. She turned back to Ginny and Neville, slightly annoyed for some reason. _I was right_, she thought, _nothing's changed. _

_Or does that mean I was wrong?_ Hermione chewed on her lip, entirely confused with herself. Especially with her annoyance at the blond – after all, it wasn't as though she'd ever let his actions affect her before. It was only McGonagall's voice, a few moments later, which pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Let the Sorting Ceremony commence," she stated, gesturing to the Sorting Hat, which sat on the same stool as it did every year. Right on cue, it opened its mouth – if you could call it that – and began its annual song.

_Oh, I'm not much to look at,_

_ But listen close – I never lie._

_ I wouldn't be of any use _

_ If there's a better hat than I._

_..._

_ So don't worry 'cause I've been here_

_ Since this great school began_

_ And I will keep on sorting you_

_ 'Til there's a better plan._

_..._

_ Put me on, and I will see_

_ Who you truly are_

_ Your desires and your dreams_

_ Your fears and all your scars_

_..._

_ Do you belong in Ravenclaw,_

_ With the witty and the smart?_

_ Or perhaps in Hufflepuff,_

_ Where you're together, not apart?_

_..._

_ Maybe you're a Gryffindor,_

_ Where dwell the brave and true?_

_ Or perhaps you are a Slytherin,_

_ With the ambitious and the shrewd?_

_..._

_ You won't know until you put me on,_

_ So do it and you'll see._

_ I'm always right, I promise you_

_ There's no smarter hat than me._

_..._

_Now one last thing, I'd like to say._

_ I'm smart – and that is why_

_ I've noticed that some things have changed_

_And old habits have to die._

_..._

_ Sort you I must – and so I will_

_ But let me tell you this_

_ There was a time when we were one_

_ That time I sorely miss._

_..._

_We've won the war and beat the foe,_

_ Proven that we are strong_

_ But we can only stay this way_

_ If we learn to get along._

_..._

_ Each one of you can do great things_

_ You all are great at heart_

_ Remember this – now put me on_

_ And let the Sorting start._

The students clapped as the song ended, which was the custom every year, but Hermione did not join them. The Hat's song had struck a chord in Hermione. Perhaps it was her recent encounter with Draco, perhaps her thoughts about Ron, or maybe her experiences over the last year in general. Once again she didn't know. Chewing on her bottom lip, she cast a quick glance over to the Slytherin table, where Malfoy sat next to Theodor Nott, brooding and looking entirely un-talkative. She couldn't understand why this bothered her so much, though she was still quite certain that it was simply her inability to comprehend the situation.

"Hermione, snap out of it!" Ginny stated, snapped her fingers in front of Hermione's face, and looking slightly concerned, "You almost looked like you were staring at the Slytherins." The redhead raised an eyebrow, letting Hermione know that she had caught on to more than she said out loud, and Hermione sighed.

"Why would I be doing that?" she questioned, slightly aggravated by Ginny's nosiness, though she knew she didn't have much reason to be.

"That was _my_ question," Ginny responded with a small laugh.

Hermione gave her a look that clearly said _d__rop it, I'll tell you later_.

Blushing slightly, Ginny quickly changed the subject: "Which of those first years do you two suppose will be in Gryffindor?" she asked.

"That little boy there, with the curly hair," Neville stated quickly – he'd obviously been considering this – and pointed to a taller boy near the back, "I've got a good feeling about him."

"Willing to bet a galleon on it?" Ginny asked, reminding Hermione entirely of Fred and George. She winced when she remembered that it was just George now.

"Yeah, why not," Neville responded, "Who are you betting on? You in Hermione?"

Biting her lip, Hermione nodded: "Oh, sure, I suppose." She had never really been into betting, but anything to take her mind off her thoughts was appreciated at the moment.

"I get that girl near the front. With the blonde hair and the pink barrette," Ginny stated, and Hermione groaned inwardly. She'd been about to pick the same girl.

"Um…" Hermione paused, continuing to chew on her bottom lip, considering.

Ginny laughed, "You're taking this way to seriously, Mione."

"Mione?" Hermione questioned, laughing herself.

"I just thought of it. Can't believe we haven't called you that before," Ginny responded with a grin, "Do you mind?"

Hermione shook her head, "No. It's nice, actually."

Ginny smiled at her, "Okay. Now pick one, they're already starting."

Hermione turned quickly and realized that Ginny was right – a brown-haired boy had just stepped off the stool and was heading towards the Ravenclaw table. She did a quick scan of the first years, and then pointed to a little girl near the back. Honestly, she looked about the least Gryffindor out of all of them, but Hermione knew that looks didn't mean everything:

"I pick her," she stated, "The girl with black hair, at the very back."

Ginny glanced at her, "Really? She's about – "

"Well, look at me," Neville joked, cutting in. They all knew what Ginny had been about to say, "I was about the least likely to be Gryffindor in our whole group of first years, and I think I've turned out okay." He winked at the two girls, and they laughed. It was true, really.

"How _did_ you get in Gryffindor, Neville?" Ginny questioned, eyeing him. Hermione leaned in, wondering how this topic hadn't come up before.

Neville grinned, "Well, I wanted Hufflepuff. The hat and I must have argued for like five minutes about it, and in the end the hat won. Apparently it knew what it was doing, just like it says it does," he stated with a smile.

The girls laughed: "Apparently so," Hermione responded.

"Yeah, well – " Neville began.

"Shhh!" Ginny cut in, gesturing to the front where her choice of student had just taken a seat on the stool. McGonagall placed the hat on the girl's head, and a few moments later:

"SLYTHERIN!" The girl's face fell slightly, as the other tables went quiet. Hermione felt bad for her – the Slytherins weren't exactly appreciated at the moment. Perhaps McGonagall was right with her attempts at promoting interhouse unity.

Ginny scowled, and pushed a Galleon each towards Hermione and Neville, who grinned. The three decided to focus on the Sorting rather than chatting; a few more students were called and then Neville's boy from the back. The hat barely reached his head before:

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Awe, man!" Neville groaned, handing a galleon each to Hermione and Ginny. Ginny laughed; perhaps she wouldn't lose too much due to this bet after all.

Hermione's girl from the back was one of the last to be called; there were only two more after her. The three went silent as she sat on the stool, and they held their breaths as the Sorting Hat was placed on her head. Ten Seconds went by, then thirty, then a minute. The entire room had gone silent now, watching the girl, whose face was scrunched up in contemplation. Hermione was immediately reminded of her own sorting; she had been a hat stall like Neville, though the hat had been deciding between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. It seemed the same thing was happening here.

Two minutes.

Three minutes.

Four minutes.

Finally, there was movement on the stool. The hat opened its mouth and cried out:

"SLYTHERIN!" Hermione's face fell; she had been so sure that…

"GRYFFINDOR!" The hat called out, with barely a pause.

You could hear a pin drop in the room. The hat was removed from the girl's head by a stunned McGonagall, who seemed to have no idea how to handle this situation. After a moment's pause she placed the hat back on the girl's head. Without pausing the hat called out:

"SLYTHERIN!" followed only seconds later by, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Hermione crossed her arms, and risked another glance at Draco. He too was watching the situation intently, no longer brooding like he had been moments before. Then he turned slightly, and his eyes caught Hermione's across the room. She turned quickly, realizing as she did so that she was making it obvious that she had been staring.

* * *

Draco rested his chin on his hands once again, as Granger tore her gaze away from his. She'd been watching him for who knows how long – and for who knows why. Scowling, he studied the brunette as her face turned slightly red. At least she had the decency to be embarrassed for spying on him.

_Merlin, what's up with her today?_ He thought, mind drawn away from the Sorting mishap for a moment. _First the carriage ride, then this?_ Draco had no idea what to make of either of these incidents, except that they were entirely unwanted and unnecessary. He felt bad enough without being – pitied – by a mudblood, if that's what it was. Which, he supposed, was the most likely answer. Though it still didn't make much sense; everyone else seemed to hate him. Granger of all people had practically every reason to despise him. Maybe she was up to something.

Then it occurred to him that he had once more called her _mudblood_, albeit in his thoughts, and once more he didn't really feel guilty. Which bothered him.

_Oh, for Salazar's sake, what's wrong with me?_ He thought, for the millionth time that day. He knew he felt guilty, that he had done things he regretted, but he still wasn't sure why he felt this way. He didn't know what this made him now, either. Had he changed? What exactly had happened to him?

Forcing himself out of his thoughts, Draco realized that he was still staring in Granger's direction, though she didn't seem to have noticed. He turned back to look at the front of the room, where the confused student and Headmistress were still attempting to figure out the situation. It was certainly odd, and Draco wondered if it had anything to do with the strangeness of the Hat's song at the beginning of the ceremony. But the Hat was under a spell to sort every student into one house and one house only – for this to be happening meant something was going wrong.

_Or right?_ A little voice in the back of his head questioned, but Draco ignored it. He certainly didn't need anything else to figure out at the moment.

"This is really strange," Astoria commented, sitting across the table from Draco. He simply nodded, not bothering to respond, "What do you think they'll do?" she questioned.

Theo shifted uncomfortably beside Draco, and he gritted his teeth. _If he's so upset about her talking and fawning over me all the time, why doesn't he just bloody do something_? He wondered. He had half a mind to just forget about Theo and ask Astoria out himself – he liked her quite a bit, honestly. The only reason it hadn't happened was because Draco really did care about his friends, and he didn't want Theo to get hurt. He'd have to talk to him at some point; this couldn't keep going on.

"I have no idea," Draco finally responded, when Astoria shot him a look for not answering her. McGonagall had now sorted the other two students, one to Hufflepuff and one to Gryffindor, and she was replacing the Sorting Hat on the mixed up student for what must be the fifth time. This time, the hat clearly called out.

"Gryffindor!" And then went silent. The entire Hall held their breaths, waiting, but the Hat did not speak again.

"That was bloody odd," Blaise finally stated, turning around from his seat beside Astoria to face the group again, "Salazar – something strange is going on here."

Draco nodded. Even though the situation seemed to have sorted itself out – no pun intended – the Hall was still quiet. Nothing like this had happened before, and Draco had to wonder if perhaps the Hat was fighting its own spell to make a point. This wasn't the first time that it had sung about interhouse unity after all. But it was definitely the first time that it had tried to sort a student into two houses. Gryffindor and Slytherin out of all of them, too. Placing his head in his hands, Draco groaned. It was too much to think about, especially when added to everything else.

McGonagall stepped back up to the podium, raising her hands for silence, though the Hall was still quite quiet. The Headmistress looked quite flustered, which was something Draco had never seen before, and he couldn't quite connect the emotion to the sternness she usually portrayed.

"Well – that was an interesting turn of events," she stated, her voice shaking ever so slightly, "But, we will continue on as normal." She took a deep breath, and when she spoke again her voice was noticeably steadier, "Now, I mentioned at the train station that there would be changes made here at Hogwarts as a result of the last couple of years. These will, as I am sure some of you have guessed, be put in place to encourage interhouse unity. I feel that this last year specifically many of you have had – shall we say – hard feelings towards each other." McGonagall glanced over at the Slytherins as she said this, then quickly turned her gaze away, "This needs to change."

Immediately there was a flurry of chatter at the other tables, though the Slytherins remained mostly quiet. Draco once more felt sick as students from the other houses shot angry glares at their table. Without thinking, he looked down to avoid their gazes, and then realized that this was about the worst thing that he could do. He was a Malfoy, and Malfoy's did not show weakness. Not ever.

"Silence!" McGonagall cut across his thoughts, and the noise in the Hall dropped. Draco forced on his indifferent mask, and looked back up to listen to the Headmistress. Taking a quick peak at his friends, he saw that they all looked just as unnerved as he had felt only moments prior. They had all known that this would be a difficult year, but it seemed that none of them knew exactly how difficult.

* * *

McGonagall surveyed the crowd of students, settling down after her recent pronouncement of 'silence'. She had not been oblivious to the nasty stares and looks sent the Slytherins way by that of the other tables. However, she had noticed that a certain group of Gryffindors had not taken part in it. Perhaps she had once again misjudged Ms. Granger and her friends, which she certainly hoped was true. After all, she had already made her decision, and she wasn't going to change it now.

When the students all stared back up at her expectantly, McGonagall continued, "The first of these changes is that we will be having a school dance," excited squeals from the girls began, and McGonagall again held up her hands, "But this will be no ordinary dance. Every student in years four and above, as with the Yule Ball, is required to attend."

Groans from the first, second, and third year girls. Cheers from the boys in the same years.

"However, not only will everyone be required to attend, but if you would like to attend with a date it _must_ be a student from another house."

This announcement brought only silence, as everyone seemed to consider exactly what this meant. McGonagall allowed the news to settle in for a moment. This idea had come to her both as a way of promoting unity among the houses, and also as a way of bringing about excitement in the school once more. Godric knows they needed it, after the horrors of last year.

After a moment, she continued: "Secondly, I have decided to appoint two students to head a new 'interhouse' committee, where they will work together with a group of other students to integrate creative new methods of building relationships into the everyday life of Hogwarts." She let out a breath as this statement settled in. This was it. The moment that she had planned for, thought about, and finally made a decision on.

"These students," she began again, "Must plan at least four events throughout the year, which the entire school will take part in. And as for who they are; they are the two who, disregarding the events of the last year or so, would have been chosen as Head Boy and Head Girl. The two with the highest grades and who showed strong signs of intelligence. These two, who will be given the titles of Honorary Head Boy and Girl, are," McGonagall took another deep breath, already beginning to regret her decision: "Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy."

* * *

Hermione's sharp intake of breath could be heard halfway along the Gryffindor table. _Honorary Head Girl?_ She thought, confused, _Where did that come from…? _Of course, she would only be heading some committee and working on interhouse unity, but still…this was what she wanted, right? Only…

Turning quickly, her eyes once again met Draco's across the room. His were steely and cold, and she could tell that he was in no way happy about this decision. Not that she was either – in fact, she was already planning to talk to McGonagall about it.

_Who, in their right mind, would choose Draco Malfoy for the job of promoting interhouse unity?_ Hermione thought, turning from Malfoy to look at McGonagall, who seemed to be giving them a moment to take in this news. However, as soon as Hermione looked at her, the older witch turned her head and met Hermione's eyes. In them, Hermione saw both worry and trust, and she thought that perhaps she understood. McGonagall wasn't certain about this decision either, but she needed a Slytherin to head the committee. Slytherin was basically the reason for – or behind – all these problems, so without their cooperation it meant nothing. What Hermione still didn't understand was why Draco Malfoy had to be that Slytherin. It could have been Daphne, Blaise, or Theo, all of whom seemed like more appropriate choices.

"I now ask both of you to come to the front and shake hands, so that we may begin this feast with a show of unity. You will then sit at the empty places at the Staff Table for the remainder of the feast, to begin your discussion of plans for the next year," McGonagall stated. She glanced at Hermione after speaking the words, and Hermione thought she saw a small amount of pity in the Headmistresses gaze, but she couldn't be certain.

Ginny reached over and gave Hermione's hand a small squeeze and smiled at her encouragingly. Hermione gave her a look that asked _did you know about this? _A small flash of guilt passed through Ginny's eyes, and Hermione had her answer. This upset her for some reason, and she pulled her hand from Ginny's. Harry and Ron would never have kept secrets from her like this.

Hermione forced herself to stand, and saw Draco doing the same at the Slytherin table. He looked cool and collected again, though she could also tell that he was entirely tense. He certainly wasn't enjoying this. Which once again struck Hermione as odd – just another thing to add to the list of the recent strangeness of Draco Malfoy. She was certain that at one point he would have been reveling in the attention that this gave him – now it seemed like he would far rather be hidden up in his dormitory.

The two reached the podium at almost the same time, and McGonagall gestured for them to shake hands. Hermione quickly stretched out her hand, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible. Draco uncurled his fist, and reached out to take her hand in his. Hermione had expected it to be cold and stiff, like his demeanor, but it wasn't. As their hands clasped, she found that his was warm and soft, and sent a small tingling of heat through her. They shook quickly, and then locked eyes at the last moment. Hermione saw a small flash of panic pass through his cool gaze before they broke away. For the infinite time that day she had no idea what it meant.

* * *

Draco just wanted to die. Truthfully, he wished someone would show up and Avada Kedavra him on the spot so that he wouldn't need to go through this anymore. Merlin, after everything that had happened last year _McGonagall _of all people was choosing him to be some stupid promoter of interhouse unity? If he was being honest with himself he knew that this was something Hogwarts probably did need, but he also knew that he certainly was not the one to help bring it about. His stupid parents and their prejudices were far to deeply ingrained in him, and he couldn't even figure out his own thoughts on the matter. How could he help change anyone else's?

"You may sit down," McGonagall told them. Draco turned abruptly and walked towards the table she had gestured to earlier, feeling sick. He slumped into a chair, and then, remembering where he was, straightened up again, his indifferent mask firmly in place. His mind, however, was racing to find a way out of this.

Granger sat down beside him, and he eyed her warily. After his pulling away from her in the carriage, and her comment about mudblood germs, he was quite worried that she would hex him under the table. He shifted his chair slightly away from her, and she frowned.

"Let the feast begin!" McGonagall stated, clapping her hands. Immediately food began piling itself on the tables and the students, forgetting momentarily about the announcements, dug in.

Neither Hermione nor Draco moved, but instead continued to eye each other warily.

Finally, "Do you want me to pass you anything?" Hermione questioned, attempting to be polite. She didn't want to make a scene in front of the entire student body, and if she had to work with Malfoy all year, she thought she might as well be civil.

Draco glared at her: "What, and get your mudblood germs all over my food?" he sneered coldly, repeating her earlier words.

"I believe you said you didn't use the word 'mudblood' anymore," Hermione responded with equal coldness.

Draco's eyes widened, but only for a split second. He hadn't meant to say it out loud – especially not to her – and especially not now. But he had, and that was that.

"I was just repeating what you yourself said earlier," he responded, which was true.

Hermione rolled her eyes: "Oh, and I suppose that makes it perfectly fine, right?" she questioned, crossing her arms.

"No," Draco admitted honestly, though he wasn't sure why he said it. This gave Hermione pause, and he watched as she began to chew on her bottom lip, clearly confused.

"What do you mean 'no'?" Hermione finally asked, drawing out the last word.

"I bloody mean 'no' Granger. Or is that too difficult for you to understand," he responded, an edge of frustration to his voice, "I already told you, I haven't called you that in years. You're the one who brought it up earlier, and I was just repeating your bloody judgmental words," he finished, though he didn't really mean it. He knew that everything that she'd said about him earlier was probably true – or at least had been – and that she had every right to say it. He was simply frustrated, and she was the nearest person. Besides, him fighting with Granger wasn't exactly an unusual thing.

"Oh," was all Hermione said, staring at him in complete bewilderment. She wasn't at all used to seeing Draco like this. Something was definitely going on, and she wanted to figure out what it was.

"Look, is it too much to ask that we be civil to each other, even for a few moments. We're supposed to come up with some sort of plan for the inter – " Hermione began.

"I don't think you get it, Granger. I don't _want_ to have anything to do with this interhouse unity thing. I didn't exactly ask to be put into this position," he paused for a moment, before meeting her eyes, "And I certainly didn't ask to have to work with you."

Hermione's eyes narrowed, and she glared at him, "Well, thank goodness. Did you think I was planning to _enjoy_ working with a ferret all year?"

For some reason, her comment bothered Draco. And even more unexpectedly, it made him want to prove her wrong. He wondered, for a small second, if this could be his one chance. Or his second chance – or millionth – whichever way you wanted to look at it, to show that he had changed. Or at least, to find out for himself whether he really had.

"Well, your comment about us being civil would seem to say that you aren't entirely against the idea," he stated, smirking. It felt odd, like something he hadn't done in a while, "And I do seem to remember that you grabbed my sleeve when I was trying to leave the carriage."

"You _know_ why I did that. You looked awful, and I just wanted to – "

"To stick your nose where it doesn't belong. Like always," Draco finished, already feeling infinitely better than he had only moments before.

Hermione's eyes were glaring daggers at him, "Look, make up your mind. Do you want to work with me or not?"

"That's not a good question, Granger. Of course I don't want to work with you – but I'm starting to think that I want to have this position after all," he stated, mimicking her as he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

"Godric, you're so bloody difficult!" Hermione spat out.

"Language, Granger," Draco mocked, raising a blond brow. Hermione immediately paused, and Draco thought he saw her turn slightly white. She met his eyes again, but this time there was no malice there. He didn't know it, of course, but she was remembering how Ron had said something similar that morning on the train. That morning that seemed like forever ago.

"Hypocrite," she found herself responding, before she could hold the word back. Neither she nor Draco dropped their gazes, both confused by the others' words. Then they broke away, both feeling slightly embarrassed.

_What is with this?_ Draco thought. _We just had two seconds of almost civil conversation – even if we were mocking each other the whole time_.

Hermione, chewing on her lip, was thinking almost the same thing. After a moment, she reached out and put a baked potato and a piece of chicken on her plate, and Draco grabbed some food as well. He hadn't realized until this moment exactly how hungry he was. The two chewed on their meals in silence, glancing over at the other now and then, attempting to figure out exactly what had gone wrong between them.

_Or right?_ That little voice in Draco's head questioned once again, and for the second time that day he ignored it. He didn't _want_ anything to go right between him and Granger; the two had always been enemies, and as much as he perhaps wanted this position all of a sudden, and wanted to prove that he had changed, he didn't want anything to be different between the two of them. Arguing with Granger gave him back a little piece of his sanity, one that he had honestly missed over the –

_Missed? What are you thinking? _He berated himself, though he realized it was true. When Granger had shown up at Malfoy Manor, along with Potter and Weasley, he'd realized how much he would have given to be back at school taunting and arguing with them, even if it meant always feeling inferior to Potter. He'd realized that he had, in some entirely demented way, missed his three enemies. And now, sitting with Granger, he felt almost normal for the first time in what seemed like forever.

"So, are you doing this or not?" Hermione finally asked, when the two had finished eating, and the meal had disappeared. Dessert took its place, but Draco ignored it.

"To be honest, even when I was threatening not to, I knew I probably didn't have much choice. Unless I wanted to leave the school – and I came back, so why in hell would I do that?" Draco stated truthfully, once again wondering why he was being honest. He guessed that it was because he had only just realized the truth of this statement, and that it meant he would have to work with Hermione. So he'd better get somewhat used to it. Not that he had to like it, or even be _civil_ about it.

"Okay, so what do – " Hermione began.

"Look, Granger. I know you're a bloody know-it-all and you want to always be ahead and in control, but I am getting a headache. We're going to need to discuss this another time," Draco cut in, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I am _not _a – "

"Yes, you _are_ a know-it-all; it's a simple fact," Draco responded, resting his chin on his hands once again.

"And you're a foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach," Hermione stated almost calmly, though her eyes were narrowing once again. Draco laughed at her expression: this was the Granger he was used too. She glared at him.

"Why are you laughing?" she questioned, tone aggravated.

"Because you're bloody hilarious when you talk like that," Draco responded.

"I don't remember you laughing when I said that in third year," she stated.

Draco frowned, "That's because you had your wand out and were about to hex me into next week."

"You deserved it," Hermione told him coolly, "You could have gotten Buckbeak kill – " Hermione quickly cut off, cheeks reddening. Draco met her eyes, confused.

"Could have?"

"Never mind," Hermione stated, far to quickly.

"No, what do you mean, could have?" Draco responded swiftly, trying to find an answer in her actions, but she had put up a strangely good mask. He hadn't known she could do that.

"It's none of your business," she retorted, looking away from him, and grabbing the nearest dessert as a way to calm herself.

Draco sighed, thinking fast: "Look, Granger, I'll make you a deal. You tell me what happened with – that overgrown chicken – and I'll answer any question you ask me. Alright?" He bit his lip, knowing immediately that this was not going to turn out well for him. But he was extremely curious about the hippogriff.

Hermione considered this, and then turned back to look at him. "Fine," she replied, "But we can't talk here."

"What, you're trying to get me on my own now?" Draco joked, though his heart wasn't in it. The mention of the hippogriff had taken any humor out of him and he was, of course, entirely confused as to why.

"Of course not, you – " Hermione began.

"I was bloody _joking_, Granger."

"Draco Malfoy, joking. I never thought I'd see the day,"

"Ha – Ha," Draco drawled humorlessly.

The two stared at each other for another moment. Then the desserts disappeared, and McGonagall dismissed the students. Draco quickly stood up, wanting nothing more than to get out of there.

"Hey! I thought we had a deal," Hermione said quickly, resisting the urge to grab his sleeve again. She didn't really want to talk to him anymore tonight, but she did want to know what was going on with him. And he'd said she could ask him anything.

Draco sighed: "Look, I'm exhausted. Besides, we'll have plenty of time tomorrow in detention," he began, cutting off when he saw Hermione's confused expression.

"Detention?"

All of the relief that these last few moments had brought to Draco disappeared, as he remember that he was the cause of his three classmates spending time in detention tomorrow. Once again, it was his fault. He wanted to hex himself.

"Yeah – " he began slowly, "I may have forgotten Lovegood's fact from the carriages, and McGonagall may have given us all detention because of it…" he broke off again as Hermione's face fell.

"I knew it, you weren't even listening," she stated angrily, cutting him off as he tried to defend himself, "Godric, and I thought for a moment you had changed somehow." She stood up, and swept past him, eyes blazing.

Draco watched her go, emotions entirely conflicted. _She thought I had changed? After five minutes? _He wondered, as her bushy head disappeared out the doors of the Great Hall. For some reason he felt bad for disappointing her. _Get yourself together, Malfoy_, he told himself, _this is bloody Granger we're talking about._

Sticking his hands back in the pockets of his robe, he sighed. Hopefully her anger at him wouldn't mean that he didn't get to hear what had happened with the Hippogriff.

Draco strode quickly behind the last remaining students and walked out of the Hall. All he wanted now was to get to his dormitory, crawl into bed, and fall asleep. Hopefully his consistent dreams wouldn't bother him, though he strongly doubted it.

_To be continued..._

* * *

**A/N: **Hope you all enjoyed! I'd love a review on your way out :)

Also, for those of you looking for really fluffy and quick Dramione, I (don't) apologize. These two definitely need some background before they ever get together :)

Anyways, thanks again for reading! Love you all!


	4. Early Morning Regrets

**A/N:** Thanks again for all the responses, they are always appreciated!

This chapter is a little bit all over the place, but will be relevant to later chapters, so hopefully it's okay. I am looking forward to writing chapter five, so perhaps there won't be as long a wait for that one (but I won't make any promises).

Enjoy! :)

* * *

Hermione stormed out of the Great Hall and took a side path up to the Gryffindor Dormitories, reaching them before any of the other students. She knew she wasn't exactly setting a good example as the "Honorary Head Girl," but for one of the first times, she didn't care. Who did that ferret think he was? Coming back, after everything he did, then _pretending_ to have changed, almost fooling her, and then getting them all in detention. _I knew something was up – that git_! Hermione thought, more angry than she had been in a while.

"Hermione!"

Hermione spun on her heel to see Ginny running up behind her. The redhead was breathing hard, and had obviously sprinted to catch up with her friend.

"Aren't you supposed to be doing something? Head Girl and all?" Hermione spat out, still annoyed with Ginny for keeping secrets from her, and taking her anger out on the girl because of this.

Ginny looked momentarily taken aback, scrunching up her eyebrows in confusion. Then: "look, I was sworn to secrecy alright? And you're the _Honorary Head Girl_ now anyways, so – "

"Well, maybe I don't want to be? Did you even consider that?" Hermione questioned, cutting her off. She knew the words weren't exactly honest, but she was too upset to care.

"That's not true," Ginny replied calmly, seeing right through her, "Since when has Draco Malfoy gotten you so upset, anyways?"

Hermione's next breathe caught in her throat, "What makes you think this is about Malfoy?" she questioned after a pause, attempting to appear much calmer than she actually was.

Ginny raised her eyebrows, "You've been acting strange towards him all evening; and I saw you storm away in the Great Hall."

Feeling her face heat up, Hermione crossed her arms, "Okay, fine. He got our whole carriage in detention, and I actually thought he had been listening. I thought maybe he had – "

"Changed?" Ginny cut in. Hermione met her friend's eyes and nodded slowly. The redhead laughed: "People like Malfoy don't _change_ Mione. At least not that fast."

Hermione regarded her friend quizzically, "Then why was he give the Honorary Head Boy title, if McGonagall didn't think he could change?"

Biting her lip, Ginny shrugged, "McGonagall is a little crazy. Amazing, of course, but also crazy. Who knows what she's thinking?"

A bubble of laughter forced its way to the surface, and despite her annoyance Hermione allowed herself to laugh. "Fair enough. But either way, Malfoy sure _seemed_ like he was acting different; apparently he's a better actor than I gave him credit for."

Ginny seemed to consider Hermione's words, then spoke softly: "I think Malfoy's always been a good actor, honestly."

Hermione thought about this, but didn't respond. She supposed it was true; after all, he had fooled the teachers in sixth year. No one had figured out what he had been doing with the Vanishing Cabinet, not even Dumbledore. He had to be a pretty good actor to fool that wizard. Once more, Hermione felt that familiar pang, remembering that their old headmaster was now gone and was not coming back.

"Hermione?"

Once again, Hermione shook herself free of her thoughts, and turned to face her friend. The girl had an oddly concerned look on her face; almost as if she was hiding something. When she met Hermione's eyes, something seemed to have changed, but Hermione couldn't place it.

"What?" she responded.

"Whatever you do, just be careful. Not everything is as it seems," Ginny replied slowly, almost as though she was forcing out the words. Then the redhead turned, walked down the hallway and disappeared.

Hermione was left feeling more confused than ever. She stood staring after her friend for a moment, and then turned and walked through the portrait hole. The common room was empty; no one else had arrived yet. With a heavy heart, she surveyed the room which held so many memories. Memories of Harry and Ron and – honestly – memories of the time of her life. Even if they weren't all good ones. Letting out a small breath, she headed to the Gryffindor dormitories and into the old room she had shared with Lavender and Parvati. Apparently Neville had been wrong, Parvati wasn't coming back after all, and Lavender – Hermione shook away the thought. It was far too painful to deal with.

Either way, it looked as though she was stuck here alone. For the whole year.

Crawling into her old bed, Hermione forced herself to tune out all the memories that were trying to worm their way into her head. At first, she tried to focus on Ron, but it turned out that this wasn't much better. She missed him far too much.

She ended up replaying the scene in third year, when she had slapped Draco Malfoy across the face, over and over in her mind. It was about the only thing that gave her any satisfaction, and forced all other thoughts out of her head.

It was quite strange that thoughts of Draco Malfoy were what finally lulled her to sleep.

* * *

Draco woke up the next morning feeling worse than he had in a long time. As he had thought, his dreams had been as bad – if not worse – than ever. And not only that, it had taken him forever to get to sleep. He had been in the middle of a dream about – Draco pushed this memory away before the scene was able to reform in his mind. As much as he tried to tell himself that it didn't matter, he felt terrible for getting his group in detention – and even more so – for letting Granger down. He was sure that these feelings had been the cause of at least of few of the nightmarish images that haunted him last night.

_Merlin, what's wrong with me?_ He asked himself, _why the hell should I care about that mudblood? _He didn't mean the word at all this time, but he had hoped that using it, even in his thoughts, would make Granger seem more like the enemy. Only it hadn't worked. He'd tried to convince himself that he only wanted to hear about the Hippogriff, and that he felt bad because he may have ruined his chances for this. However, he was quite certain that this was not the reason he felt the way he did. _What is wrong with me? _He questioned again. It seemed, at the moment, that he would never get an answer.

Dragging himself out of bed, he realized that everyone else in his dorm was still asleep. Everyone being Blaise and Theo. Draco felt sick for the infinite time in the last few months as he remembered Crabbe and Goyle. The latter had chosen not to come back – no surprise there – but the former… Draco forced himself to close down his mind and not worry about it.

_Yeah, right. _

He hated that he'd almost lost the one ability that he used to pride himself on – the ability to shut down his thoughts and hide his emotions. It wasn't entirely gone, but it didn't come nearly as quickly anymore, and sometimes he couldn't do it at all.

_Just add it to the list of the infinite other things that I can't do and don't understand anymore, _he thought.

Quickly getting dressed, Draco headed down to the common room, only to find that it was empty. _What time is it? _he wondered, only then turning to the clock on the wall.

6:00 A.M.

_Oh, for Salazar's sake, _he thought, aggravated. Then he sighed: _well, not like I was getting a wonderful sleep anyway. _

As much as he wished he could throw himself right into schoolwork to take his mind off of everything, Draco was thankful at the same time that it was Saturday, and he had two days to prepare himself for classes. Though, with detention tonight, he'd probably end up getting roped into a discussion with McGonagall and Granger about this new interhouse unity thing. He was too tired to continue processing it at the moment; he'd gotten to the point where he knew he didn't want the role, but at the same time where he wasn't about to pass it down. Knowing McGonagall, she'd probably already told his parents. His father would give him hell if he turned down an opportunity to give any honor back to the Malfoy name, even if it meant promoting unity with Mudbloods and Gryffindors. Draco ran a hand through his hair: _not like he doesn't give me hell anyways, _he thought.

Draco absolutely hated it. He was technically _of age_ now, even if he was still going to school, but his father wouldn't stop treating him like a child. And Draco let him, because he didn't know what else to do. His family had always been everything that he had, even if he hated them half the time. He couldn't leave them now – and he wasn't sure that he even wanted to. While he hadn't exactly had a healthy childhood, he'd had a family, and he was sure that others' situations had been inferior to his. Now, after the war, everything had become far worse. This was mainly because his father was under some delusion that it was Draco's fault that the dark lord had been defeated, and therefore that the Malfoy name had been dishonored. If Draco was honest with himself, he desperately wished that the Wizengamot had decided to send his father to Azkaban. Maybe it was selfish, Draco wasn't sure, but he couldn't deny that he wanted it.

_Oh, bloody hell, when did my life become so messed up?_ Draco wondered, and he didn't know the answer. His first thought would have been when he received the dark mark, but he knew it had been before that. He'd come to Hogwarts in his first year already messed up, and though he hadn't seen it then he certainly saw it now. The problem was, he didn't know whether that was normal, whether that was just who he was meant to be, or whether he was something more. He didn't know whether he had changed, or even whether he needed to.

He didn't know anything, and he was beginning to think that he never would.

Scowling, Draco shoved his hands in his pockets, and was about to storm out of the common room and take a walk to clear his head when he heard a door open. He spun around to see Theo walking down the stairs from their dormitory, running his hands through his messy brown hair. The two locked eyes, and Theo's looked both agitated and concerned.

"You alright?" Draco asked his friend, feeling his own concerns dissipate slightly. He knew people thought that he was entirely heartless, but this had never been the case. The thing was, when Draco cared about someone, he gave them everything. It was all or nothing with him.

Theo shrugged, and removed his gaze from Draco's. The two friends stood silent for a moment, before Draco once again broke it.

"Do you want to talk?"

Running his hands through his hair again, Theo slowly nodded, "Yeah, I'd appreciate that. Not here though."

"Where do you want to go?" Draco questioned.

"Outside somewhere?" Theo suggested, seeming to become more agitated by the minute. If Draco was honest, he had no desire to go outside this early in the morning – it was still somewhat dark – but he could tell that he needed to get Theo out of the common room. Draco couldn't remember the last time he had seen Theo, or any of his friends for that matter, act like this. It couldn't be good. Theo looked as though he was ready to break down at any moment.

"Sure," Draco finally responded, and the two headed out of the common room, through the dungeons and the Entrance Hall, and into the cool morning air. As soon as they were ten feet from the castle, Theo began to talk, though neither stopped walking.

"It's about Astoria," he said simply, and Draco nodded, trying to force off the sly smile that had begun to creep onto his face. It was funny how he could be feeling so terrible in one moment, and so much better now. He knew it couldn't last, though. Moments of happiness never did these days.

Theo wasn't an idiot, and having been looking at Draco when he spoke, saw the smirk that had taken residence on Draco's face. "What's with the smile?" he questioned, sounding somewhat annoyed.

Draco let out a small laugh, "Look, I've been waiting to have this conversation with you for what seems like forever. I know you like her."

"Oh," Theo stated, looking slightly bewildered, then: "Wait –you do?" his eyes widened slightly, "How? I didn't tell you."

Unable to hold it back any longer, Draco burst out laughing, "It's only slightly obvious," he finally responded. Theo glared at him, though there was no malice in his gaze.

Finally: "Is it _really _that obvious?" He questioned, looking uneasy.

Draco considered this, and then said, "Well, for me, yes. I couldn't speak for anyone else, though. I tend to pick up on certain cues easier than most."

"And you've still let Astoria all over you?" Theo accused quickly.

This went right through Draco, and hurt him more deeply than he knew it should have. Was this really how his friends saw him? Especially when he'd been doing everything he could to keep _away_ from Astoria without hurting either her or Theo.

"If you haven't noticed, I've never let anything go anywhere with her. In fact, I've been pushing her away at every opportunity, because I knew how you felt," Draco stated, trying to keep his voice steady. At one point this would have been no difficulty for him, now it seemed almost impossible.

Theo's face dropped, and he looked guilty, "I know, I didn't – "

"Don't worry about it," Draco cut in.

The two walked in silence once again, the only break being the sound of damp grass and leaves squishing under their feet. After a few minutes, Theo spoke again.

"So, what should I do?"

"Tell her." Draco's response came far to quickly, revealing that he had obviously been thinking about this before. Theo gave him a curious look, and then shrugged:

"You think?" he questioned, though it sounded more like a statement than a question.

"I know," Draco replied.

"And if she doesn't like me?"

Inwardly, Draco rolled his eyes. This sounded like a conversation fourth years would be having, or younger. Yet somehow it made Draco feel better, like the Bertie Bott's Beans on the train had. It was as though their innocence hadn't entirely been taken from them. Or at least Theo's hadn't.

Then again, he certainly had a darker look about him. Moreso than Draco could ever remember him having before. But he wasn't _entirely_ changed, not if he was still worrying about small things like this.

"And…" Theo drew out the word, breaking into Draco's thoughts. The blond sighed:

"Look, I'm sure she likes you, alright? Honestly, this – "

"Doesn't really matter to you right now? You have more important things to think about?" Theo responded, voice a mixture of coolness and understanding.

The two friends locked gazes once again, and Draco shook his head: "That's not what I was going to say."

"But it's what you were thinking."

After a moment, Draco shrugged. He couldn't exactly deny it.

"Well, you've helped me. Wouldn't it be better to get it off your chest?" Theo asked, voice earnest. Draco shook his head.

"I'm fine - "

"No, you're not," Theo broke in, sounding annoyed once more, "Look, Malfoy – "

"Please call me Draco." The words shot out of the blond's mouth before he could stop them, and he wished that he could take them back. _Good going, idiot, _he berated himself.

Theo looked at him as though he now understood, and the two locked gazes for a moment, before Draco dropped his stare.

"So that's it, is it?" Theo questioned slowly.

"Well, what else could it be?" Draco spit out.

"I get it - "

"No!" Draco cut in, anger rising up in him again, "No, you don't! I was the one forced to kill Dumbledore, and punished because _I_ wasn't the one to actually do it. I was the one who had to live in – the dark lord's – headquarters, and do what he wanted. I tortured people. I – _killed _– people," At the last sentence, Draco's resolve wavered, and he felt sick. He hadn't admitted that to anyone before, and he hadn't meant to admit it now. It had only been once, _person_ not _people_ really. But what did it matter. It may as well have been a thousand.

What was he doing? Why was he saying this, anyway? Draco's mind raked the last few moments of their conversation, but his mind had gone blank. He felt awful and weak, and he hated himself. He just wanted to be dead, was quite certain that it would be better than this. And then he remembered the source of the conversation:

"How could you understand?" he whispered, not even able to meet Theo's eyes. He wished he could take back these last few moments, or Obliviate Theo's memories. Draco knew he could do it – he'd done it before – but somehow it didn't feel the same now. It felt wrong.

Theo took another step towards Draco, and in one swift motion rolled up his sleeve. The same faint outline of the dark mark that was etched into Draco's skin appeared there.

"I told you, I get it," Theo responded, "My father was in the Department of Mysteries that night, too."

Draco forced himself to meet Theo's eyes, and saw an understanding there. One he had never thought he would see, because he couldn't even understand himself. It was entirely strange; they were united in understanding the other's inability to understand.

"What did – what did you do?" Draco didn't know why he asked, but after admitting his own mistakes, he felt it was a fair trade.

"Mainly the same things you did," Theo responded, voice now echoing the weakness Draco felt. It seemed entirely out of place in Theo, who had always been a slightly shy, awkward boy. Not a torturer, not an _evil_ person.

"Did you – " Draco began, but then stopped himself. Perhaps it wasn't a fair question.

"Kill anyone? No. He never made me go that far, thank Salazar." Theo now looked as though he was about to faint, and Draco knew that the boy could never have done it. Could never have done what Draco _had_ gone through with.

At this, the moment of understanding passed, because Draco thought that he could forgive himself for everything else that he had done. Not right away, of course, but after a while. Only he was certain he could not forgive himself for the murder. It was like a piece of his soul had been taken away, and he would never be able to get it back.

"I'm going to go back to the castle," he stated, trying to keep his voice steady, which was entirely impossible. Theo nodded vaguely. Neither recalled nor cared about the initial reason for their conversation, instead both simply felt sick. Somewhere in the recesses of Draco's mind, he found it funny that they had been laughing and talking about meaningless things only moments earlier.

Because now Draco felt worse than ever.

* * *

Hermione sat in the Gryffindor common room in her old armchair by the fire, staring into the flames. She hadn't slept exceptionally well, but not terrible either. Dreams of Ron had flooded her sleep, which while painful weren't necessarily a bad thing. Hermione smiled slightly at this. _I'll have to write him soon, _she thought, before recalling that it hadn't even been a full day since she'd seen him, _it feels like its been weeks. _

Once more, thoughts of him flooded her mind. His red hair, which she thought of whenever she looked at Ginny. His laugh, which was like no other that she had heard. His strangely caring nature, and yet inconsiderate attitude at the same time. Hermione laughed at this. It had taken her a while to get used to it, and while it still bothered her sometimes, she now found it strangely endearing. She knew without a doubt that he cared deeply about her, even though he wasn't incredible at showing it sometimes.

Hermione heard a door open and close, and listened as footsteps approached the common room. But there was something else; it seemed that the person was crying. Hermione turned quickly to see the little girl from yesterday's Sorting walk down the stairs – the one who had mixed up the Hat – and she frowned. Strangely, it was only now that it occurred to her that Ginny and Neville each owed her a Galleon, as she had technically won their bet from yesterday. At the moment, though, that didn't really seem to matter.

"You alright?" she questioned, and the girl looked up. She blushed, and looked away from Hermione.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone else was here," she responded quietly.

"That's fine," Hermione responded, "Do you want to sit down?"

The girl considered this, and then nodded, walking over to sit in the armchair next to Hermione.

"What's your name?" Hermione questioned, as the girl brushed the tears from her eyes.

"Lileth," she responded after a moment, "But everyone calls me Lil."

"I'm Hermione," Hermione stated, and the girl nodded knowingly. Then she held out her hand, and the two shook. Hermione laughed at this; she didn't remember the last time she had shook someone's hand. It wasn't generally done in the wizarding world, or at least not that she had noticed.

"Are you a muggleborn?" Hermione asked, realizing that this would explain it. Lileth's eyes widened and then she nodded slowly, her face turning red once again. Smiling gently, Hermione squeezed the girl's hand, "That's nothing to be ashamed of. I'm a muggleborn too."

Lileth grinned at this, her face lighting up considerably. Then, as suddenly as her smile had appeared, it left and she frowned: "I guess that's what is bothering me."

"What is?" Hermione questioned, taken aback. The girl sighed, pushing her blonde hair back over her shoulder.

"Well, everyone says that if I'm a muggleborn, I must be a terrible person for the Hat to have called out Slytherin. Because muggleborns never get in Slytherin, so I must be awful for it to even have considered putting me there." Tears began to well up in the younger girl's eyes, and Hermione was reminded of herself at that age, struggling to find out exactly what it meant to be in the muggleborn minority of the wizarding world.

"That's not true – remember what the Hat sang? I'm sure muggleborns will start being in Slytherin like anyone else now," Hermione responded. She didn't know if she believed the words, but felt obligated to make the first year feel better.

"Do you know why the Hat couldn't decide with me?" Lileth questioned after a moment, and Hermione shook her head.

"No. It's never happened before. Honestly, I was a bit to preoccupied to worry about it."

Lileth considered this, and then her eyes widened once again: "Oh, yes! You're the _Honorary Head Girl_, aren't you?" She dragged out Hermione's title and gave a small salute, obviously joking around. Hermione laughed, thankful for the girl's change of attitude.

"Yeah, I guess I am. And I suppose that means it is my job to make sure you are enjoying yourself so far – have you been given a tour of the castle?" Hermione played along with Lileth's little salute, making herself sound far more high-and-mighty than she actually was.

"Just on the way here from the Great Hall yesterday," Lileth responded quickly, excitement in her eyes.

"Well, shall I take you?" Hermione grinned at the girl. She didn't know why, but she felt quite connected to the first year, and almost responsible for her, though it could simply be their shared blood status. Lileth's grin widened, if that was even possible.

"Please!" the girl said.

"Well, let's go then!" Hermione held out her hand, and the younger girl took it, not yet in that stage where she felt too old for such things. The two walked quickly through the portrait hole, and Hermione immediately began pointing out different areas of the castle. She took her up the staircase near Gryffindor Tower, through the hidden entrance, and then up to the seventh floor corridor. Just as she was about to point out where the Room of Requirement was hidden, a familiar drawl rang out behind her.

"Granger and – who's this – the girl from last night? Is she a mudblood too?" Hermione spun on her heel, face heating up, and then stopped. Draco looked terrible. His normally perfect blond hair was a mess, and the bags under his eyes were even more noticeable than they had been yesterday. And if she wasn't wrong, his eyes looked red. Like he'd been crying. _That's crazy, Hermione, _she told herself, _remember what Ginny said. This is Malfoy you're looking at. _Either way, the sneer curling his lip was the same as it always had been. But something was definitely wrong here, and Hermione wished that she could figure out what it was. Until then though, he'd just – out loud – used the word he'd told her he hadn't called her in years. And even if that _had_ been true, it wasn't anymore.

Hermione turned to Lileth and saw confusion etched on the younger girl's face. Which made sense; Lileth wouldn't know what the word meant, and all she knew of Draco – if she even remembered – was that he was Honorary Head Boy. So, as much as Hermione would have liked to hex the ferret, she supposed it would be better at the moment if she kept herself under control. Even if Malfoy was a total git, she didn't want Lileth to be made his target.

"Yes. She's a _muggleborn_ too," Hermione responded, emphasizing the proper term for people of her blood status. Draco laughed humorlessly.

"Well, your type has to stick together, right?"

Hermione bristled. She didn't know why she had even considered that Draco Malfoy could have changed. Here was living proof of what an idiot she had been to ever have thought such a thing.

"Yeah, right," was all she said, attempting to keep her voice as calm as possible, while glaring daggers at the blond. Then she turned, and tugging on Lileth's hand stormed past him. Their hands brushed for only a moment as she walked by, and while Draco didn't move, she watched in surprise as his cold demeanor dropped slightly.

Hermione was quite certain that she would never figure this one out.

* * *

Draco felt terrible, which confirmed his thoughts and his reasons for what he now saw as a cruel trick. He must have changed after all. He'd been wandering the seventh floor corridor trying to get himself back under control, replace his mask, hide his emotions. Anything at all, really. But he couldn't. He couldn't figure anything out. And he still wasn't sure whether he had actually changed, or whether – as his father said – was simply going through some phase after the dark lord's defeat. A phase his father was, Draco though bitterly, quite determined to remove him from.

When he'd heard Granger coming, Draco had seen his opportunity. He'd always been rude to her – calling her a mudblood and whatever else he felt like doing – and it had never bothered him. If it still didn't, then he'd know, however much he hated the thought, that there might be some truth to his father's words. If it did bother him, then he'd know something had changed.

And it had bothered him. Even more than he'd expected.

Last night they had traded some perhaps unpleasant banter, but it hadn't been directed specifically at her, like the way he had just spoken. And what upset him even more was the fact that she hadn't retaliated. He supposed she must have had a reason – probably the muggleborn girl with her – but it wasn't like Granger to not do anything. It didn't make any sense.

But then again, neither did the fact that he had barely been able to say the word _mudblood_ out loud. And he'd felt like he was going to break down and give it all away the entire time.

When their hands had touched, he knew he'd let his guard down somewhat. Because the touch had sent warmth through him, and calmed him, if only for a moment. He didn't understand that, either. He was starting to expect it – not understanding anything. It seemed to have become a regularity since he'd come back. _Which_, he reminded himself_, wasn't even a full day ago_.

Draco cursed under his breath, and shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his robe. _What the bloody hell is with Granger?_ He wondered. _And what the bloody hell is with me?_

At least he knew one thing now – something was different. He had changed somehow, however small that change might be. But he wished that he could have his time back, and not have gone about figuring this out the way he had. Because now he doubted that Granger was planning to be civil to him at all, which bothered him strangely. Talking to her like that had made him feel even worse than he had previously been feeling. He didn't know why – which was no surprise – but he knew that this was the truth. And now it seemed as though he had ruined any chances he might have had to be civil with her, which meant that accomplishing this Honorary Head Boy thing had just gotten a whole lot more difficult. He really should have thought this through better; he doubted that she would believe that he hadn't actually meant what he had said. Especially after last night. Which bothered him, even though he knew it shouldn't.

And then there was that weird connection they seemed to have. Of course, it could be only him, but touching her hand made him –

Draco shook away these thoughts, not wanting to add to the confusion he already felt. Granger was nothing more than a partner in promoting interhouse unity, and one he wished he didn't have to work with. That was all.

He couldn't help but laugh at this idea. Never in his wildest dreams would Draco Malfoy have thought that he would be working to promote interhouse unity with Hermione Granger.

Running a hand through his blond fringe, Draco considered his options. He supposed the best thing he could do was try to talk to Granger tonight in detention, when there were two other students and McGonagall present. Then she wouldn't hex him, however much he might deserve it. He guessed that she wanted the role enough that she would forgive him if he seemed earnest about it.

And besides, he still wanted to know about the Hippogriff.

_To be continued_...

* * *

**A/N: **So, apologies for the small amount of Draco/Hermione interaction in this chapter. This wasn't my best writing, but as said previously, I needed some space to set up information for later on. Next chapter comes the start of the real action, so bear with me :)

Thanks so much for reading! Again, reviews (and criticisms) are always appreciated!


	5. Detention with McGonagall

**A/N:** Oh my goodness guys, I am so sorry. So many things happened in the last month, and I just had absolutely no time to write anything other than the stuff I needed to do for my Quidditch League. I only lost like one follower though, so thank you! I really appreciate you all, and for not giving up on me.

So, this chapter is a little bit shorter, and isn't as good as I wanted it to be :/ But I found it difficult to get back into the story after a month away, so hopefully you still enjoy it, and I promise the next chapter will be better! I will do my best to have the next chapter ready as soon as possible, but I can't say anything for sure as I have so many other things on the go.

Anyways, thanks again for reading and reviewing! Enjoy! :)

* * *

Draco began walking to McGonagall's office a few minutes before he normally would have, hoping to catch Granger before the others got there. He still had no idea how he would go about talking with her, but he'd come to the conclusion that it needed to happen.

_Merlin, why did I have to be put with the most aggravating girl in the school? _He wondered.

He had spent the entire day wandering the corridors, except for a quick break to grab food from the kitchens. Draco had figured out the entrance in his sixth year, and had quite enjoyed that knowledge since. Initially he had planned on going to the Great Hall, but had seen Theo on his way, and the other boy had entirely avoided him. After that, Draco knew he couldn't stand to face him or any of his friends. He wondered how much Theo had already told the others – assuming he had – Theo had never seemed like one to break a confidence, but Draco had never asked him to keep the information a secret.

Inwardly, Draco kicked himself. He still couldn't figure out exactly what had come over him. Draco Malfoy, having a heart-to-heart with anyone, wasn't exactly a normality. He felt entirely exposed to the world, even though for all he knew it was only Theo who had the information. But even he shouldn't have it. Draco was starting to wish that he had used his little _Obliviate_ trick, and wiped Theo's memories. It would have been far easier than this.

_What, for Salazar's sake, were you thinking? _Draco asked himself for the infinite time that day, and again he had no concrete answer. He knew he had been feeling terrible, causing him to let his guard, and then somehow he had ended up saying – well – everything. The strange thing was – at the time – it had seemed as though the pressure he was carrying had been lifted, however slightly. Now he felt worse than ever, and of course, his idiotic conversation with Granger hadn't exactly helped. He hadn't at all expected to feel bad about that one.

Now, Draco was trying to figure out a way to talk to Theo again, and sort everything out. Only the way his 'friend' had avoided him earlier would potentially make that difficult. At the moment then, Draco's only goal was to make sure that nothing like that ever happened again. If he had changed, and he was still going on the _if_ assumption, he certainly hadn't changed that much. Draco's mask was the only thing that kept him safe – when that left – he wouldn't have anything.

Wandering into McGonagall's office ten minutes to seven, when the note she had sent said to meet, he realized that nobody else was there. Not even McGonagall. _Well, this is interesting, _he thought, _I'm not generally the first one to show up for anything. _Of course, he had ulterior motives here, but it seemed as though they were going to get him nowhere.

"Draco Malfoy, _early_?" Came a voice from behind him. Draco turned quickly to see Ernie leaning against the doorframe, studying him, "I thought you'd come in late, not willing to face us after getting all of us in trouble."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Draco said without thinking. Inwardly he kicked himself. _Sorry? Since when does Draco Malfoy say sorry? _He thought. Ernie seemed just as stunned, giving him a curious glance before entering the room and taking a seat. Neither spoke again.

A few minutes later Luna flounced in the door, looking entirely unperturbed. She took a seat beside Ernie and glanced in between the two boys curiously. Just as she was about to say something Hermione walked in, followed by McGonagall. The former made a point of not looking in Draco's direction at all, and the blond realized that this was probably going to be a lot harder than he had thought.

"Alright," McGonagall stated, standing in the entrance to her office and clearing her throat loudly. All four students turned to face her. She began: "I spent a lot of time thinking about what exactly your detention should entail. And then it came to me. The whole point of this exercise was to promote unity among the houses, and you four apparently could not make this work. Therefore…" McGonagall waved her wand and a floating timer appeared over their heads, "You will spend this time becoming – _unified –_ shall we say," McGonagall finished. She eyed the students over her glasses. Draco had absolutely no idea what she was getting at, but his mind was racing as he attempted to figure out the meaning of the floating timer.

"So, what are we doing, Professor?" Hermione asked.

_Typical Granger, always needing to stick out as the know-it-all_, Draco thought, before catching himself. It was those thoughts that would lead to comments that would lead to him getting into even more trouble than he already was.

"Good question, Ms. Granger," McGonagall stated coolly. Draco couldn't tell if she was annoyed with Hermione or with all of them, "The task is simple. You must all be civil – may I say, friendly – with each other for half an hour," McGonagall waved her wand once again and the timer showed 30.00, "Every time that anyone makes an untimely remark, the timer will reset. The door will be locked, and will only unlock when the time has run out."

The four students sat in silence for a moment, none of them fully comprehending the task at first. Then, after a moment:

"So, we just need to sit here and not make rude comments to each other?" Ernie asked.

A sly smile tugged on McGonagall's lips, and Draco immediately knew that there would somehow be more to it than that: "I will let you four figure that out for yourselves."

Turning, McGonagall left the room, closing the door behind her. Draco heard it click into place as it shut.

The timer sat still at thirty minutes, unmoving. For a moment, no one spoke. Then Ernie jumped in:

"So – " as soon as the words left his mouth the timer began to tick down, "would you like to tell us why we're here, Malfoy?" The last word left his lips as a sneer, which sounded strange coming from a Hufflepuff. The timer returned to thirty.

"Look, I really don't think that's the best idea right now," Draco responded, attempting to keep his voice calm. Apparently it worked, because the timer once again began its slow downward ticking. Ernie noticed this, and bit his lip. Then he nodded:

"Fine."

All four of them studied the clock, but it kept ticking downwards.

"What should we talk about?" Luna questioned airily, having put down her Quibbler. She was looking at Draco, her gentle eyes seeming to bore right into his soul. She smiled.

"I don't really think it matters, we just have to talk and we have to be civil," Hermione responded. She was still avoiding Draco's gaze, sitting in a chair to his right.

"It does matter," Luna responded simply, "Because if we talk about some things then I don't think we will be able to be civil." She cocked her head slightly to the right, giving them all a look that seemed to say _this is entirely obvious to anyone with half a brain, and I would rather be reading my magazine._

Ernie scoffed, "Well, _we three _would be fine, it's – " he cut off as the timer reset to thirty minutes. Everyone glared at him and he sighed, "Sorry."

Finally, Hermione turned around to look at them, but she still avoided Draco's direct gaze, "Why don't we all tell another story, like we did yesterday? Even if it didn't turn out wonderful, it worked for a moment."

The three others considered this, and the timer paused. Apparently it only ticked down when they were actually engaged in a conversation.

"I don't have any more stories to tell you," Draco stated, voice slightly cool. The timer was still ticking down though, not seeing his comment as a direct attack to the others.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake _Malfoy_, can't you stop being a big-headed git for even one moment?" The words spewed out of Hermione's mouth like a bullet, taking Draco entirely aback. She was now glaring at him, and he knew he must look stunned because a confused expression came over her face, "Don't give me that innocent look," she stated coldly. Then she crossed her arms and turned away again. The timer was unmoving at thirty once more.

The four of them sat in silence for a while before Ernie finally spoke up, "Look, I think you do have a story, Malfoy. The one about why exactly we are sitting here."

"That's not – " Draco began, but Ernie gestured to the timer, which was ticking down again.

"See, it's still moving," Ernie stated.

Draco sighed. He knew that he technically owed them an explanation, and perhaps they wouldn't hate him as much if they knew that his forgetfulness hadn't been intentional.

"Fine," he stated. Hermione looked up, confusion etched on her face. _Good, _he thought_, she must not entirely hate me. Maybe there's still a chance that I will get to talk to her. _

"So, there really isn't much to tell," Draco stated honestly, doing his best to keep his voice even and not sarcastic or however his regular voice sounded, "I really was listening in the carriage – " Ernie looked like he was about to roll his eyes and make a sarcastic comment, but thought better of it as the timer was still ticking downwards " – but when I got to the door I couldn't remember the name of that creature that Lovegood was talking about. So I ended up landing us here."

Chewing on her bottom lip, Hermione looked at Draco. He turned and made eye contact with her, and a slight wave of heat rushed through him. _Oh, for Salazar's sake what is wrong with me? _He wondered. He was letting this whole working with Granger thing get to his head.

"Is that actually what happened?" Hermione questioned, surprising Draco. He had assumed that she would just shrug it off as being entirely untruthful. Especially after what had happened earlier; he couldn't even have blamed her.

"Yes," he responded simply. He didn't know why he was being so calm, but he assumed that it was simply because of the timer that was still slowly ticking down. Only twenty-three more minutes of this torture.

Not that it was technically torture, or anything close. But for Draco this was one of the worst detentions that he could have possibly imagined.

Then again, Granger was talking to him. Which he certainly wouldn't have seen as a positive a few days ago, but now that this Honorary Head Boy thing was on the line…

"So, if you were really listening then, which is entirely different from the Draco Malfoy we all know, what happened earlier today?" Hermione cut into his thoughts, her voice betraying her frustration ad hurt but still surprisingly measured. The timer didn't reset itself, and while Draco would have preferred to get her alone, he knew that now might be his only chance.

He took a deep breath. "Honestly, I didn't mean that. I just – needed to see something."

"You _needed_ to see something," Hermione questioned, a tinge of sarcasm running through her words. Draco's eyes narrowed. He'd said enough, more than he needed to. Especially in front of the other witnesses.

"Yes, I _needed_ to see something," Draco responded, glaring at her. They locked eyes before Ernie rapidly jumped up and waved a hand in between them.

"Stop!" he stated in a short whisper, gesturing hurriedly to the timer. Draco didn't know how it was still ticking down, but it was. Perhaps it was because they technically hadn't gotten angry or uncivil with each other, which was entirely surprising. Taking yet another deep breath, Draco forced himself to remain calm, though he also shot another glare at Hermione. She returned the look.

"It was a Crumple Horned Snorkack," Luna stated slowly when there had been silence for a few seconds. Everybody turned to look at her, "The creature that my father thinks is real, but I'm not so certain about anymore. A Crumple Horned Snorkack."

Draco caught what she was doing – they had to keep the conversation going in order to get out of here. Eighteen minutes left. They could not let the timer reset.

But he wasn't exactly feeling like making conversation.

"Oh, yeah," Ernie responded lamely, eyeing both Hermione and Draco with annoyance. Neither made any move to join the conversation. Then again, they had talked for a good five minutes. That made it Ernie and Luna's turn.

Draco turned and studied Granger, who was very obviously not looking anywhere near him now. He scowled. If he wasn't certain that McGonagall had likely sent his father an owl about the position, he would have cared less about it. Cared less about _making up_ with bloody Granger. She was the most annoying prick this side of –

"What about you, Malfoy?"

Turning quickly, Draco realized that they must have been talking, and he had actually missed it this time.

"What?" he questioned, voice betraying his aggravation. He thought he saw the timer pause for a moment, before beginning it's slow ticking downwards once again.

"You know, it's really easy to believe that you _were _indeed listening yesterday," Ernie stated sarcastically, before turning quickly to look at the timer. Draco was entirely confused as to why it was still going down, but it was. He wasn't about to complain, "Well," Ernie continued, "Luna asked me if there was anyone _special_, and I said that I may or may not have a thing for that Hannah Abbott. She – "

"Wait a minute," Draco cut in, "You are not asking me who I _like_, while we are sitting in _detention_, with three people who I– " he cut out before saying what he was thinking. It would most certainly have brought the timer back up to half an hour.

Ernie sighed, "Told you," he muttered, turning to eye Luna. She smiled softly, her bright eyes turning to plunge deep into Draco. She always made him feel uncomfortable, and also terrible. He wished he never had to see her ever again.

Twelve minutes.

"I like Ron," Hermione piped up, causing Luna and Ernie to laugh. Her statement caught Draco slightly off guard – she was both joking and yet entirely serious, which was a side of her that he hadn't seen before.

"Well, we all know _that_," Ernie responded with a smile. Draco watched Granger's face, and saw something strange pass through her eyes. He couldn't place the emotion, but was entirely sure that he hadn't seen her carry it before. Then he turned away quickly. What was he thinking? Why did he care?

_You don't care, you're just doing what you need to do, that's all_, he told himself. And this was entirely true.

Or was it?

* * *

Hermione watched Draco out of the corner of her eye, entirely confused. She had spent all day hating him, but now she didn't know what to think. The blond was being surprisingly…civil. If that was even possible with a Malfoy. It was odd, but she felt once again like she had judged him too quickly.

_Stop being an idiot, Hermione. Look what happened the last time you gave Draco Malfoy a chance. He showed you that he is incapable of change. And he always will be._

Tilting her head slightly to catch a glimpse of the clock, Hermione saw that they only had nine more minutes of this torture. Assuming, of course, that nobody did something stupid. Which, if she was honest with herself, was bound to happen.

"Oh, yeah, of course you all know that," Hermione stated, catching Ernie's eye and realizing that all three of them were still staring at her. The words had come naturally: _I like Ron_. She did, after all.

Right?

Dropping her gaze to the floor, Hermione mentally kicked herself for this thought. Of course she liked Ron. She'd just kissed him – yesterday, was it? – though it seemed like forever ago. And she still felt that strange annoyance every time she thought of him. She hadn't been able to entirely pinpoint where it was coming from, but she assumed that she was still aggravated with him and Harry for leaving her here this year all by herself.

Though, in some deeper part of her, she knew this wasn't entirely the truth either. This annoyance with Ron hadn't simply started yesterday, like she tried to tell herself. It had started soon after they had become an "official" couple. Ron made a great friend, and she absolutely loved him, but it felt different being _with_ him. As though there was a hole in her that she had thought he would be able to fill, but it had remained empty.

"Hermione!"

Jumping slightly, Hermione shook her head to clear it and looked up. The timer had stopped and Ernie was gesturing frantically as though doing so would keep it going.

"Say something!" He hissed at her, keeping his voice low. She looked at him in confusion:

"What?" The moment the words left her lips, the timer started its downward ticking again.

Five more minutes.

"I think the clock needs to hear something from all of us every few minutes," Draco told her, and then cut off, as though realizing that he had just civilly explained something to Hermione Granger. She was so stunned by this that she entirely forgot what she had been thinking of and just stared at the blond for a moment.

"What?" he asked defensively, and she simply shook her head, "What did I say?"

"It isn't what you _said_, it's what you _didn't say_," Hermione responded, keeping her voice cool. Draco's eyes hardened at her tone, understanding the implications of her words. To his credit, he didn't respond. Hermione knew it was probably because whatever he wanted to say would certainly turn the time back to half an hour. And none of them wanted that.

"Well, we've done quite well," Luna stated airily, smiling gently at the three of them, "Only four more minutes."

Ernie nodded, "I thought we'd be here for hours, honestly," he stated, with a sideways glance at Draco. Hermione watched as Draco's hands clenched into fists at his side.

_Uh-oh, _she thought, _this might not turn out well._

But Draco didn't say anything, surprising Hermione for a second time. She had never known him to be able to keep his cool before, no matter the situation.

"Let's talk about something else," he stated finally, teeth gritted. Hermione could tell it was simply to get his voice out there. None of them wanted to risk the timer stalling again – perhaps the first time it had stopped as a warning and if it happened again it would reset itself.

"I agree," Hermione responded, before she totally realized what she was saying. She had, as she knew was the case with Malfoy, spoken only to have the timer catch her voice. Agreement with Draco was not what she had meant. The blond turned and gave her a questioning look, but not an unkind one. Hermione simply shrugged.

"Only one minutes left!" Ernie stated excitedly a few moments later.

"Fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven, fifty-" Hermione began with a silly smile.

"Will you shut up?" Draco questioned, his voice strangely humorous instead of cruel. Hermione's breath caught in her throat and she turned to stare at him. The two locked eyes and for a second Hermione felt a wave of heat rush through her. Then she broke his gaze and once more stared at the floor.

_Good Godric, what is happening to me? _She asked herself. She didn't look up again, instead listening to Ernie and Luna chat about meaningless things until the time ran out. As soon as it did, a small beeping went off, and the sound of the office door unlocking rang clearly throughout the small space.

"Well, I wish I could say it has been a pleasure, but it really hasn't, so – " Ernie stated, standing up, "Night, all." Without another word, he headed out of the office. Luna followed close on his heels, having gone back to reading her upside down _Quibbler. _

"What exactly _was_ that?" Hermione finally asked, turning to glare at Malfoy once she was sure the others were out of range.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," the blond answered coolly, meeting her gaze. His eyes were once again icy, and the tingling she had last felt did not reoccur.

"You were actually being – well – not a total arse," Hermione spit out.

Draco's gaze hardened, "Oh, well, thank you. I appreciate someone noticing that I'm not always a complete git," he responded sarcastically.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione stood up, "No, that's not what I was trying to say. I was pointing out that you _are_ always a complete git, and I was wondering what you were up to by _pretending _to be nice."

For a moment, Hermione thought she saw hurt pass through Malfoy's eyes, but if it had been there he concealed it well, "For your information, I simply wanted the time to run out so that I could get out of your aggravating presence faster. Really, I have no idea why I'm still here," Draco told her, also standing.

"Well, feel free to leave. It's not like I'm _enjoying_ being in your presence. But I do have to talk to McGonagall, so sadly I have to stay," Hermione replied, shoving as much hatred behind her voice as she could.

"About what?" Draco asked, before he could help himself.

Hermione laughed coolly, "Because that's your business."

"It's about the Head Girl/Head Boy thing, I'm guessing. Which makes it my business."

"Oh, right. Because you've been so helpful and excited about that position," Hermione responded quickly. It was taking everything she had to keep from punching Malfoy in the face. She could only imagine McGonagall's face if she gave into that urge.

* * *

Draco swallowed hard, knowing that he had to make a decision. He didn't know why he had once again let himself fight with Granger, but he assumed that it must be because it was a normal thing. He and Granger didn't do much that didn't involve fighting. Did he want that to change?

The simple answer was no.

The complicated answer was still no.

The mature answer was yes. This was also the only answer that would allow him to keep the Head Boy position and please his father. So this was the answer that he needed to choose. It wasn't really a choice, of course, but it was what he needed to do.

"No, I wasn't. At first," Draco responded honestly, "But now that I've thought about it, I do want the position. And – " he caught his breath " – I'm willing to work with you for it."

Confusion passed through Hermione's eyes, "What?"

"You heard me," Draco responded aggravatedly.

"You're lieing," Hermione told him, "You really expect me to believe that after what happened earlier?"

Biting his tongue, Draco inwardly cursed himself for that mistake. It would be absolutely impossible to explain, and he didn't want to do so anyways, "Look – that was – complicated. Alright?"

Hermione studied him, and Draco found himself holding in a breath. He had never expected himself to be worried about _anything_ that Granger had to say. But here he was.

"And you promise to be civil?"

"I didn't say _that_," Draco responded, attempting to sound light hearted.

Chewing on her lip, Hermione was silent for another moment, before: "Well, I guess I don't have much choice then. McGonagall wouldn't let me drop you if you told her you wanted the position."

Draco flashed a sly smile, "See, I'm not a complete idiot."

"I never said you were. I said you were a total arse."

"Ouch."

"You deserved that," Hermione stated, though somehow in the span of a few moments her voice had become playful. Draco stared at her for a moment, wondering how he had missed this side of Granger. He assumed it must have been his strong prejudice against muggleborns, the one he didn't hold quite so highly anymore.

"Fair enough," Draco replied after a few seconds. Then he took a deep breath, "So, you going to tell me about that Hippogriff?"

Hermione smacked him hard with her book bag.

_To be continued..._

* * *

A/N: Thanks again for reading! Reviews are always appreciated and keep me motivated...which I need right now :)


	6. One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

**A/N:** So, basically, I suck :P I am so sorry for taking years to post this. I could talk about how busy I have been, but that gets old, right? Anyways, thanks so much to those of you who have stuck with me and the story, it means a lot! This chapter is a bit of an emotional roller coaster, but hopefully you all enjoy it!

Thanks again for reading!

* * *

"Nervous?" Ginny questioned, jumping onto Hermione's bed and staring at her friend. Ginny had decided to move into the dormitory with Hermione, so rather than being alone all year, Hermione was able to spend it with the one girl she consistently got along with.

"What gave it away?" Hermione responded sarcastically, leaning against her headboard.

"Well, you're chewing on your lip for one. And you haven't flipped the page in almost twenty minutes," the redhead responded with a small laugh.

Shutting the book in exasperation, Hermione sighed, "I don't know why I'm so jittery about this. It's only – "

"Malfoy," Ginny finished, her voice suddenly cold. "Which means it's not _only_ anyone, Mione. I'd be – well, maybe more ticked than nervous – but anyways, I wouldn't want to have to spend an entire hour with that ferrety git. I don't know what right he thinks he has to come back here after everything that he did."

Hermione considered this, and then nodded slowly. She hadn't told Ginny about her most recent encounter with Malfoy, because she hadn't figured out exactly what to think about it herself. She knew he had to be manipulating her somehow, but she didn't know exactly what his plan could be. It had been an entire week since their conversation and he hadn't insulted her once. Of course, she had only talked with him briefly, just long enough to set up the meeting they had in exactly twenty minutes. But the fact that he hadn't gone out of his way to bully her said _something. _And Hermione desperately wanted to know what that something was.

"Earth to Hermione, earth to Hermione," Ginny repeated, waving a hand in front of her friend's face. The older girl shook her head slightly and then shrugged:

"Honestly, I don't think that's it. I'm just not sure what it _is _yet," Hermione told her. Ginny's eyebrows creased together, and she looked entirely confused.

"What do you mean?"

Biting her lip, Hermione considered whether or not to tell her friend. After a moment she decided against it. Ginny had, after all, already tried to convince Hermione that Malfoy was incapable of change. As much as this might be true, Hermione wasn't willing to totally believe it until necessary. Though she planned to be very careful around the blond, she didn't see a point in working with him if he was going to be the same person he always had been. She needed to at least believe that he had changed in some way, even if it was barely noticeable and hard to define.

"I don't know," Hermione finally responded, sounding entirely unconvincing. Ginny studied her for a moment, and then shrugged:

"Well, let me know when you figure it out."

"You'll be the first I tell," Hermione replied.

The two sat in silence for a moment, before Ginny spoke again:

"Have you sent Ron a letter yet?"

A pang hit Hermione at these words. She had written Ron twice already, but she hadn't gotten anything back. She'd been trying to tell herself that he had to have a good reason, but she didn't know what that could be. He must have had time in the last week to at least write her once.

"Yes, but he hasn't responded," Hermione admitted. "What about you and Harry?"

Ginny blushed, "We've written back and forth three times already."

Hermione nodded, unable to give her friend any encouragement. Instead, she simply felt a crushing sadness and a strange anger at Ron. She hadn't expected him to write to her as much as Harry would to Ginny, but she thought she mattered enough for him to have taken the time to at least write her _once_.

Apparently, she had thought wrong.

* * *

Draco sat in the library staring at the empty table in front of him. Hermione was supposed to be here already, and it wasn't like her to be late. Or, he didn't think it would be like her. If he was honest, he didn't know enough about her to know for sure.

Even without removing his eyes from the scratched surface of the library's worn out tables, Draco could feel the cool gazes of the other students who frequented this corner of Hogwarts. It had been this way all week, and he was starting to get sick of it, yet he still felt in some deep part of him as though he deserved it. So he hadn't acted out, hadn't done anything other than look away and push his fear, hurt, and anger further down within him.

He didn't know what he would do without his friends, all of whom were going through the same thing. Draco Malfoy had a far worse reputation than the rest of the Slytherins combined, but it seemed as though the rest of the school was content to bully any Slytherin they saw. At least Theo was talking to him again, though. As much as he didn't _really_ understand Draco, he came closest to it, having also received the Dark Mark. Theo hadn't talked to Astoria yet, that Draco knew of, but he didn't seem ticked with Draco anymore, either. Which was a start.

"Since when have you _ever_ been the first to show up to _anything,_" a voice questioned from behind him, pulling Draco out of his thoughts. Turning, he saw Granger staring at him, eyes a mixture of coolness and confusion. _Oh, for Salazar's sake, not her too_, he thought, and then stopped himself, _wait, why do you care what she thinks?_ He tried to tell himself that it was just because they needed to work together, but this wasn't it.

"I was the first person in McGonagall's office for detention last week," he responded defensively, unsure as to why he felt he needed to defend himself to her, "And I'm not a _late_ person, you know."

"No, I didn't. I don't _know _anything about you, Malfoy. Other than the fact that you've been a complete git and coward the last – well, all your life probably," Granger's voice was hard and sounded strange to Draco, though he knew she was right. He just wasn't sure where this change was coming from – he'd thought she would be civil at least, wanting to make the experience of working with him slightly more bearable.

"People _can_ change," was all he said, angry for some reason.

"People like _you_ generally don't," Hermione responded harshly, "And I've decided I want to know _why_. If you really have changed, then tell me what brought it about. And if you haven't, then we can save ourselves a lot of useless drama and just find a new _Honorary Head Boy_."

Draco realized then why it mattered to him, what Granger thought. She had probably been the person that he had been the worst to during their earlier years at Hogwarts. If he could convince her that he _had _or at least _wanted_ to change, then he might be able to convince anybody. But it looked as though this wasn't going to be that easy.

Not that he had exactly expected it to be.

"That's not your decision to make," Draco responded coolly, "I'm _Honorary Head Boy _whether you like it or not."

"You forget about our encounter last week, where you called me _you-know-what_," Hermione spit out the last few words, "I'm certain that McGonagall will take my side on this."

Draco bit his lip, knowing his response hadn't exactly been the best. He didn't know what it was about Granger, but he had always used to spill out his pent up anger on her when they were younger. Apparently it was still a natural reaction.

"Well?" Hermione asked impatiently. Draco studied her, feeling sick once again. He felt trapped and he absolutely hated that feeling. Basically, he either gave into Hermione and spilled his darkest secrets to his old mud – muggleborn – enemy, or he lost his Head Boy position and disappointed his father. He'd received a letter from Lucius only a few days ago congratulating him on being chosen, and he knew things wouldn't go well for him if he lost it.

He was of age, and had been for almost two years, but he was still terrified of his father.

Some things never change.

_But what are you more afraid of?_ _h_e asked himself, _Your father or your past? Lucius Malfoy or the dark truth about yourself?_

Neither option seemed appealing.

"Fine, have it your way," Granger's voice once again cut into his thoughts, "I'm going to talk to McGonagall." She turned on her heel and started towards the library exit.

"Wait," the word left Draco's lips before he could stop it, but it did the trick. Granger stopped and, turning, walked back towards him, "Let's go somewhere else."

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Granger studied him. After a moment, "Alright. Where?"

* * *

Draco stood, leaning against the iron balcony, staring out at the lake that seemed to stretch on for miles. Granger sat on the steps behind him, tapping her foot on the ground in what he assumed to be a purposefully annoying manner. He hadn't said anything for a good five minutes though, trying to gather his thoughts. Only it wasn't quite that easy, particularly for a Malfoy.

Thinking back, Draco tried to recall what had started his conversation with Theo a week ago, where he had ended up saying far more than he had meant to. The problem was that he seemed to have blocked it out of his mind, because he honestly could not remember much at all of their little talk.

"Are you going to tell me, or are you just going to stand there sulking?" Granger asked, and Draco spun around.

"I'm not _sulking_. And you don't have to resort to insults, Granger. We're not kids anymore."

"Look who's talking."

The two stared each other down for a moment before Draco turned away, feeling foolish. She was right, after all.

_Why is this so bloody confusing? _He asked himself, though he was almost certain he knew the answer. He didn't know who he was anymore. He didn't know what he believed. He didn't know why he was here.

He didn't know that he _had_ changed, so how could he explain to Granger the ways in which he had.

And in that moment Draco realized what he was going to have to do. He need to tell her this. He needed to be honest, for what would be almost the first time in his life.

_Is it worth it, though?_ The little voice in the back of his head asked, _telling her the truth? Admitting that you don't know?_

Chewing on his lip, Draco considered this. It wasn't worth it, really. But deep inside he knew that it was still something that he needed to do.

* * *

_What am I doing here? _Hermione asked herself, glaring at the metal staircase under her feet. _This is a waste of time_.

She didn't know what she had expected. On the way to the library that question had occurred to her, and she thought that she deserved to know the answer. But this was Malfoy. The fact that she was here, alone with him, was strange enough. Looking up for a moment, she studied the blond. He had his back turned to her, but she could tell that he was struggling with something. And for some reason this bothered her.

_This is Malfoy. Why are you even trying to give him a chance? _She asked herself, knowing that she sounded like Ginny. But, truth be known, she didn't have a good answer for the question. Why _did _she care about him? She shouldn't, and she knew it.

_If only Ron and Harry were –_

And there was the problem. They weren't. Her two best friends weren't here, and it was driving her insane. She'd told Ron all about the oddness surrounding Malfoy, but he hadn't bothered to respond, meaning she had to decipher his strange behavior all on her own.

"Look, are you going to tell me, or – "

"Will you give me one minute?" Malfoy spat out, cutting her off. The blond turned and glared at her, but Hermione was almost certain that she saw a glint of fear cross through his eyes.

"You've had almost ten."

The blond bit his lower lip, and this time Hermione was sure that she saw a look of uncertainty pass across his face. Still, as soon as it appeared, it was gone.

"Look, you want the truth? It's that _I don't know_ if I've changed. Maybe I haven't," Malfoy took in a breath, looked as though he was going to continue, and then remained silent. His glare had transferred to the ground, and Hermione was almost certain that he was ready to hex something.

"That's all you have to say?"

"It's more than enough," he responded angrily, his eyes hardening as they met hers once again. Hermione could almost watch his wall being rebuilt. For a moment there she had seen a crack in it, but now that break had disappeared.

"Fine." She stood to her feet, getting angry herself. Her emotions were entirely mixed up, and she didn't know how to read them. She didn't think that she was actually angry at the blond, but this only confused her more, "I'm leaving." She turned and began to walk down the stairs.

"You act as if I care," he drawled, sounding just like his old self. Hermione spun back to face him and was entirely surprised by what she saw. Not malice, not anger, just confusion. Instead of responding, she simply turned back around and walked down the stairs.

Draco stood at the top feeling as though he had just lost something important, but was unable to figure out what it was.

_To be continued..._

* * *

**A/N:** As always, reviews are incredibly appreciated! Leave me a note on your way out, and thanks again for reading :)


End file.
